Lady of the Gate
by Gallicus
Summary: An unknown catalyst on P5X-878 irrevocably alters the life of one General Jack O'Neill. And the fallout will touch everyone else till nothing is the same any more...
1. The Woman in the Infirmary

**Lady of the Gate**

begun: 19-03-06 | completed: 17-04-10 | revised: 03-07-13

SUMMARY: An unknown catalyst on P5X-878 irrevocably alters the life of one General Jack O'Neill. And the fallout will touch everyone else till nothing is the same any more...

WARNINGS: Angst, AU (deviates after _Endgame_), Drama, Romance

FEATURED PAIRINGS: Sam/Pete, Sara/Michael

SEASON: Season Eight

SPOILERS: Anything up to 819 _Moebius Part 2_ is fair game, especially 106 _Cold Lazarus_, 215 _The Fifth Race_, 318 _Shades of Grey_, 405 _Divide and Conquer_, 410 _Beneath the Surface_, 415 _Chain Reaction_, 606 _Abyss_, 713 _Grace_, 715 _Chimera_, 721 _The Lost City_, 722 _The Lost City Part 2_, 801 _New Order_, 806 _Affinity_ and especially every episode from _Gemini_ to _Moebius Part 2_, with a bit nicked from 901 _Avalon_

DISCLAIMER: **Stargate SG-1 **and its characters are the property of Showtime, Sci/Fi Channel, MGM Television, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Film Corp. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the author.

THANKS: A big thank you to Karen Joy who worked hard as my Beta on this chapter.

xxx

Theme Song:

_again_

— キロロ [_Best Friend_ (CD single), track 2]

xxx

"I know, General, it's all fun and games before someone breaks a nail."

—Jack, "Urgo"

**ONE: The Woman in the Infirmary **

SGC

September 30th, 2004

2130 hrs

Dr. Brightman scowled at the chart in front of her and flicked through several sheets of paper. She rubbed her forehead in an attempt to ward off the oncoming headache caused by the latest problem brought through the gate for her. She had already placed a call with Lieutenant General Hammond in Washington and said General was now en route to the SGC in Colorado to take command of the facility until the current problem could be rectified.

The problem for Brightman was that she wasn't sure that she could solve the situation and restore the status quo. If she couldn't then things at the SGC were going to be in great upheaval. The root of the problem was one Brigadier General Jonathan O'Neill, who was currently lying asleep in a gurney across from Brightman's office. The gurney was shielded from the view of everyone by a thin plastic curtain, but it was enough to keep anyone from seeing the latest set of circumstances to befall the current CO of Stargate Command.

Sighing heavily Dr. Brightman left her small office and slipped behind the curtain to look at the sleeping General. SG-5 had returned two weeks ago from a survey of some ruins on P5X-878 with the belief that the ruins held technology left behind by the Ancients, builders of the stargates. Less than twenty-four hours ago, the General had accompanied SG-5 back to P5X-878 in order to provide his 'expert' knowledge of Ancient technology to help with a better understanding of the ruins.

That SG-5 had returned early wasn't a huge surprise given how things never went smoothly when the General was off world. When Brightman and her staff had arrived at the gate room in order to receive possible casualties they were surprised to see SG-5 hurry through the gate carrying what she figured was the body of the General. What they deposited on the waiting gurney was instead a beautiful young woman wearing the General's BDUs.

Brightman looked over the sleeping form of the young woman — the General, she corrected herself. The blood tests had confirmed that other than being of the wrong gender and a lot younger, the woman that SG-5 had brought back with them was General O'Neill. In order to deal with this strange situation Brightman had had SG-5 confined to base and sequestered by themselves in order to prevent rumours getting out of hand. She figured that General Hammond would know how to deal with them once he arrived in an hour's time.

The SGC chief medical officer had also sworn her staff to silence and had the curtain put up round the gurney in order to keep potential busybodies from gawking. Brightman rubbed her forehead again, wondering how her predecessor had managed to keep up with the chaos that the General seemed to generate. With nothing more to be done till further test results came back and General Hammond arrived, the Doctor went in search of coffee.

xxx

General George Hammond stalked down the corridors of the SGC in search of the infirmary. Dr. Brightman's phone call had dragged him away from an important meeting and he had been somewhat put out that she wouldn't — or couldn't — give him any details of the supposed emergency that his successor to the post of SGC's commanding officer was now embroiled in. He was certain that she wouldn't have him out here now unless there was a real problem.

He rounded the corner and entered the infirmary. "Doctor Brightman," he barked.

Dr. Brightman came out from her office with a clipboard in hand. Hammond briefly wondered if she really needed the sheets of paper, or if it was something she did to make herself look important or busy. The Doctor nodded in acknowledgement of Hammond's arrival and began ordering her staff to leave the infirmary. Once they were alone she beckoned Hammond over to the gurney with the curtain around it.

"Doctor Brightman, can you please tell me what it is that O'Neill has done that made you call me and have me travel all this way at this time of night?"

She scowled at Hammond, annoyed that he was questioning her judgement of the situation. "This is a serious problem, General, one that needs your input as to where we go from here."

"And the problem is?"

Brightman gave Hammond a quick run down of SG-5's original expedition to P5X-878 and the subsequent follow up with the General in tow.

"So, what did Jack do? Natives shoot at him? The Goa'uld shoot at him? Some new enemy shoot at him?"

"Take a look for yourself, General," hissed Brightman as she led him behind the plastic curtain.

"It's a sleeping member of SGC personnel, Doctor, what does that have to do with General O'Neill?" asked Hammond pointedly.

Stabbing a pointed figure at the sleeping woman she ground out a reply. "That _is _General Jack O'Neill!"

Hammond stopped in his tracks and briefly considered that the chief medical officer had lost her mind. He turned his gaze back to the sleeping person once more. The young woman was actually quite beautiful, having a pleasing face with a refined nose and a shock of chestnut brown hair that spilled about her face and down to her shoulders. She was still dressed in BDUs where the tag 'O'Neill' could be clearly read. Taking several steps closer he placed his hands on the raised bar that bounded the sides of the gurney and peered closer.

"You're sure that this is Jack?" He couldn't quite believe that he was asking that question.

Brightman nodded her head and glanced at the notes she carried on her clipboard. "We've sent away for several more tests, the results of which we'll get back tomorrow morning, but at this stage a simple DNA test suggests that she is the General — only female."

"What has been the base reaction to this?" Hammond queried.

Again Brightman outlined quickly what she had done with her own staff and SG-5, recommending that Hammond go and talk to them now and deal with that situation first before returning to the infirmary.

"And SG-1? Do they know?"

"No, Sir," replied Brightman. "They are currently off-world and not due to return for three more days."

Hammond sighed and looked at the sleeping woman. "All right, here's what we will do. Get _her _into a secure ISO room away from prying eyes and I'll talk to SG-5. No one gets to see her."

xxx

SG-5 as a team looked up as Hammond swept into the secure room. They all stood and snapped to attention with brisk salutes to their senior officer.

"At ease men," Hammond declared as he took a seat with them. "Now, this isn't going to be the official debriefing. We'll do that tomorrow at 0900, barring any further interruptions. But I do need to hear from y'all now, so that I can make decisions on how to handle this situation and get the ball rolling. Would you like to tell me what happened out there?"

Major Hallam, CO of SG-5 nodded and took the lead in answering Hammond's questions.

"_Where to, Sir?" asked Hallan as SG-5 and O'Neill came to halt on the small mound of dirt before the stargate on P5X-878. _

"_Not up to me, Hallan," replied O'Neill as he fished a yo-yo from one of the pockets of his BDUs. "This is SG-5's gig. Go where you want to go, poke whatever you want to poke. I'll stand around and look dashing till you think there is something I might be able to help you with. And I stress might, Hallan. Despite sticking my head twice into those Ancient head-sucky things I still don't have a good grasp on the ins and outs of their society or technology. Wouldn't it have been better if Carter or Daniel had had that blasted Ancient gene instead of me? On second thoughts probably not__,__ as they'd be twice as annoying as they already are when they are on a tear." _

"_That was quite a speech there, Sir," remarked Hallan with a grin. _

"_Oyo! Insubordination, even when I'm a General! Does nobody around here do what I tell them?" _

_Hallan and the rest of SG-5 chuckled as O'Neill petulantly kicked a rock off the approach to the stargate and dug his hands into his pockets, rendering him looking like a five-year-old. It was all an act and SG-5 knew that. O'Neill gave a bark of a laugh and gestured to Hallan to get the expedition underway. Nodding Hallan turned and sent Captain Layton on ahead as point, putting Lieutenant Marks at their six. Hallan, O'Neill and the two other members of SG-5, two scientists named Granger and James, spread themselves out in the centre of the line as the group made their way from the stargate to the ruins some five clicks away. _

_Once at the ruins the team decided to skip pausing for a snack and instead went straight into their investigations. Hallan and Layton took off to secure the perimeter while Marks kept an eye of Granger and James. O'Neill found himself a comfortable flat surface near one of the ruin walls and lay back, idly playing with his yo-yo to pass the time. While he was welcome on the mission he figured that annoying them as he had once done with Carter and Daniel would not go down so well and was content to leave them to their own devices until he was needed. It may have not been the most stimulating walk off-world, but it was still a damn sight better than doing paperwork. _

"What happened?" prompted Hammond.

"Well, Sir, the General managed to fall asleep there before Layton and I came back from our watch. After about three hours we broke for lunch and woke General O'Neill up to join us." Hallan shrugged his shoulders. "Things seemed fine and calm. Granger and James had managed to get quite a bit of work done, but none of it had any relevance to what happened to the General."

Here Hallan turned to look at the pair of scientists in question. They nodded with his assessment of the situation. Nothing they had looked at that morning appeared to having anything to do with what took place next.

"So, how did Jack end up like he is?" Hammond did not like this. The longer this situation dragged on, the more certain it became that no one could solve the problem, and the more likely it was that Jack would have to adapt to what had happened to him or go mad in the process. This was something that Hammond did not want happening to one of the best men he had ever had the privilege to command.

"That's just it, Sir," said Layton picking up where Hallan had left off. "We're not really sure."

_Lunch was over. Granger and James were busy comparing notes from the morning's investigations and O'Neill was doing his best to act as if he had no idea what either of them was saying. "Gentlemen!" he shouted. _

_SG-5 came to a grinding halt in their process of packing up from lunch. O'Neill surveyed the situation. "Small words please." _

"_Granger and I are more certain than ever that this was an Ancient's outpost, but we've yet to find any indication that any of their technology has survived. I believe that there are further chambers underground that may yield better results, but I've been unable to locate an entrance." _

_O'Neill held up a hand to forestall any further talking. "The entrance probably isn't here. It's most likely a short distance from the ruins." _

_SG-5 just stared at their CO. O'Neill tugged at the collar of his shirt and coughed. "Well, anyway, it's not likely you're going to find any doohickeys for me to kill myself with today. So I'm just gonna make my way back to the gate and go home. If you find anything just send word and I'll come running." _

"_Game on this evening is there, Sir?" inquired Hallan with a barely disguised smile over the General's hockey fixation. _

"_I can neither confirm nor deny the existence of said game," grinned O'Neill as he stood up from where he had been eating his lunch. _

_Hallan stepped up to give his CO a handshake. "It's been a blast having you out here, Sir..." _

_O'Neill was suddenly engulfed in a beam of white light that was sprinkled with notes of yellow light. When the beam snapped off seconds later a young woman with dark hair was in his place, dressed in the General's BDUs. Before Hallan could react the woman had slumped to the ground in a boneless heap, clearly unconscious. _

"After that we hightailed it back to the gate, Sir," concluded Layton.

A silence descended on the room as Hammond absorbed the information just provided to him. After a moment he moved and stood. SG-5 copied him. He looked Hallan square in the eye and delivered his verdict. "Here's what is going to happen. SG-5, you are not to breathe a word of what has happened on P5X-878 till I give you the authority, am I clear?"

There was a series of nods and "Yes, Sir!"

"I want you all to get a good night's sleep and be in the briefing room at 0900. You'll be giving me your formal debrief then, minus what has happened to the General. After that I'm sending you back to P5X-878 with another SG team to see if you can work out how to reverse what has happened. Dismissed."

P7X-135

October 1st, 2004

0035 hrs

Lt. Colonel Carter stared at the ring on her finger, rotating her wrist back and forth to watch the diamond sparkle in the light of the campfire at her back. Normally she wore it on her dog tags, but had wanted to see it on her hand again. She looked up into the darkness to see the form of her teammate and friend Teal'c making his way along the camp perimeter as part of his watch. The other member of her team and another very good friend, Daniel Jackson, lay asleep in his tent. He'd get the last watch of the evening.

Casting her gaze back to the ring Carter felt a flush of giddy, happy thoughts at what it represented. She'd taken to heart what her mind had been trying to tell her through her hallucinations onboard the Prometheus almost a year ago and had gone out to get herself a 'life', succeeding beyond her initial imaginings. She now had a fiancé in the form of a cop from Denver, Pete Shanahan, and a wedding to look forward to in six months time.

Thoughts of love caused her mind to flitter back to the feelings she had harboured for her CO when he'd still been a Colonel and herself a Major. Since the Prometheus she'd managed to gain a handle on those emotions and lock them away, slowly suffocating them by not indulging them as she had been wont to in previous years. It had helped that there had been no alternative realities, confession of feelings, or mind stamping taking place in the last four years. By now she had almost managed to convince herself that she'd never really been in love with O'Neill, that her feelings had been some twisted form of hero worship based in part on his reports from the original Abydos mission she had not been a part of.

Thinking about the General prompted Carter to ponder Daniel's comments during their dinner here on P7X-135. He'd remarked that he hadn't talked with Jack outside of the SGC in quite some time and wondered if their friend had been ignoring him. But turning to her own memories, Carter now found that she too hadn't spent any time with their CO outside of the SGC, so if he'd been ignoring Daniel he had been ignoring her also. This was something that Carter didn't feel was in the General's modus operandi, even if he did go out of his way to avoid her 'technobabble' and Daniel's 'waffling'. She'd have to ask Teal'c tomorrow if he was experiencing that same loss of companionship as her and Daniel when it came to the General.

Standing and stretching her legs another thought struck Carter. She couldn't place the last time SG-1 had sat down to a meal in the commissary with their CO. Searching her memories she found she couldn't place the General as having any significant interactions with the three of them, outside mission briefings, since the Asgaard had thawed him out.

Teal'c loomed out of the dark like a silent panther, causing Carter to reach for her P90.

"Did I disturb you, ColonelCarter?"

"No, Teal'c, you didn't. I'm just stretching before I retire."

Teal'c inclined his head in acknowledgement. "May I ask what had you so deep in thought?"

"Just thinking about the General," replied Carter, before blushing when she realised how that sounded. Pushing on in a hurried and high tone she added, "I was thinking about Daniel's comment that he hadn't talked to the General outside of the SGC for some time and I found that I was in the same boat. The last time I had any sort of one-on-one conversation with him was when I told him about my engagement. I was going to ask you tomorrow if you'd had the same experience with the General."

"Indeed. But that is through no fault of O'Neill's."

"It isn't?"

Teal'c shook his head and took a step further into the firelight. "As a whole SG-1 has not made any effort to include O'Neill in any non-SGC based outings since his promotion. This is despite his attempts to remain in touch, as it were, with his former team."

"Are you saying that it's not been the General who has been avoiding us, but that it is us who have been avoiding him?"

"That is what I said. No invitations were extended to O'Neill on our outings to places to eat. Nor have we dropped by his office, as DanielJackson would say, to ask him to join us in the commissary for food."

Carter stared back at the Jaf'fa in shock. Had SG-1 really been ignoring their CO?

"No, I'm sure that we asked him to..." Carter trailed off as Teal'c slowly shook his head.

She found she had to sit down again as a cold fist of horror clawed at her gut. They'd been shutting the General out since his promotion and not once had he called them on it, instead just carrying on with his work — the one thing in the world he had left to him.

The former First Prime of Apophis sat down next to his team leader. "Many of the staff at the SGC have commented that SG-1 has given O'Neill the 'cold shoulder'."

"They have?" was all Carter could squeak out, her voice half an octave higher than usual.

"Not directly to me, Colonel Carter, but I have overheard many conversations on the topic. The fact that, prior to our departure to P7X-135, O'Neill hadn't spent anytime off base in three weeks and SG-1 had had five separate social occasions during that time has not gone unnoticed."

"They must think we're heartless monsters, Teal'c."

"They do not," rumbled Teal'c deep voice. "They consider Daniel a follower, not a leader."

"Meaning?"

"That they believe he leaves the invitations to you and that if O'Neill fails to turn up it is the result of him being unable or unwilling to come, not the lack of an invitation."

"And you?" questioned Carter, not liking where this conversation was going.

"My attempts to include O'Neill in out social outings have been noted by the SGC personnel."

"Your attempts?" Carter cast her mind back and realised that Teal'c had indeed attempted to raise the notion of including the General in many of SG-1's get-togethers, only for her to shoot them down with a variety of reasons. None of which seemed particularly convincing to her now.

Teal'c nodded as he saw Carter recall his attempts. He felt somewhat ashamed that he had not pressed his friend's suit further.

"Me?"

"It has been assumed by many that your relationship with PeteShanahan and your subsequent engagement have absorbed most of your social thoughts in recent months. The base believes that once you have settled into your new routine that invitations to O'Neill will once again be extended."

"I'm not going to wait for things to settle, Teal'c," stated Carter. "Once we get back home we're taking the General out for a meal."

Teal'c noted the determined set of the woman's jaw for a moment or two before raising an important point. "And if PeteShanahan is waiting for you when we return and wishes to do otherwise?"

The Jaf'fa could see that he had stumped the Lt. Colonel with his query.

SGC

0514 hrs

Hammond looked across the desk in O'Neill's office at Dr. Brightman. "What do you believe is the best course of action for the patient?" Hammond was finding it increasingly difficult to find a way of referring to Jack O'Neill as Jack O'Neill given the General's current situation. The decision that had been handed down to him wasn't helping either.

"She's going to need time to adjust to what has happened and we're going to have to decide quickly what we do with her. She's moved from her coma into a regular REM sleeping pattern. It's only a matter of time before she wakes up and starts demanding answers, Sir."

Nodding in acknowledgement at Brightman's assessment Hammond pushed a thin folder across the desk and into the reach of the younger woman. As the Doctor read Hammond summarised the information contained therein.

"The President and the Joint Chiefs have already agreed on a set course of action concerning the General. After I briefed them over the phone early this morning about the situation and the potential that it may well be a permanent thing, they have decided in their wisdom to create an identity for the young woman in your infirmary. She is now Jacqueline O'Neill, 'Jackie' for short, a twenty-four year old Air Force recruit and General O'Neill's niece. If she is considered stable enough to return to work she will be assigned to an SG team."

"An SG team, Sir?"

Hammond nodded, this time in confirmation. "Given O'Neill's abilities, background of training and field experience, the Air Force is not keen to lose him. Now that he is once more young and fit the Air Force is pushing to have her back out in the field where her skills can be of use."

"So, back as CO of SG-1 then?" Brightman wondered what the hell was going on here.

"No," the temporary CO of the SGC told the startled medical officer. "It has been noted that since O'Neill's promotion to Brigadier General a couple of months ago that an 'us and them' situation has arisen with regard to SG-1."

Brightman stared at Hammond. "'Us and them'?"

"The staff have noticed that O'Neill has been seemingly excluded from SG-1 down time get-togethers that he would have been a part of only months earlier. So much so, that he hasn't spent any time off base for recreation in the last three weeks."

"I wouldn't have thought it possible that such a formerly close knit team would exclude the General in such a way."

"Neither would I," agreed Hammond. "But it appears to be an unconscious decision and not a deliberate slight. O'Neill no longer works alongside them in the large number of hours that he once did which may have some bearing on why things have changed. I imagine Lieutenant Colonel Carter's recent engagement has proven an added distraction for her and her team. Either way, the Joint Chiefs have decided that placing O'Neill back with SG-1 would only result in new problems and not fix the one we have now. Since SG-5 are well aware of what has happened, and they've agreed to stay quiet on the matter, it has been fixed upon that O'Neill will, if cleared for duty, be a part of SG-5."

"In what capacity? Would Major Hallan accept that, Sir?" Brightman was beginning to worry that a group of faceless men in Washington had decided to essentially decide the General's life for her.

"Hallan will be promoted to Lieutenant Colonel and O'Neill will serve as his second in command with the rank of Captain."

"Captain? But surely—"

"We are talking about a twenty-four year old woman, a Ms Jacqueline O'Neill. She is the niece of the General, not the General himself."

"That's it? We just pretend the General went missing off world, and 'Oh by the way, here's his niece!' Even with supposed recent difficulties, SG-1 will go looking for him, Sir, you and I both know that."

"I'm well aware of that, Doctor Brightman, and don't think I like you talking back to a senior officer in that tone!" He knew she was exasperated, but he was the General in charge. "Captain O'Neill will take Layton's place on SG-5 and he in turn will be assigned to another SG team. I've been asked to cover here as CO at the SGC till a replacement can be found and briefed."

"That solves the immediate problem of what to do with her work-wise, Sir, but it doesn't help O'Neill adjust to what has happened, nor does it deal with SG-1's potential reaction to the situation, or for that matter the rest of the bases'."

"This is a 'need to know' Doctor. The whole of the SGC doesn't need to know what has happened. That is why she'll be with SG-5. They already know."

"And SG-1?"

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it. For now I want suggestions on how to deal with O'Neill when she wakes up and learns about her change in situation and status."

"I'd recommend that someone familiar to the General—"

"_Captain_," interrupted Hammond. "Get used to referring to her by _her_ new rank, Doctor."

Scowling at the word that essentially deleted her now former CO from existence, Brightman ploughed on. "_Captain _O'Neill needs somebody she can trust to help her deal with this, preferably female so that the 'facts of life' can be explained to her from a woman's perspective. If the Joint Chiefs expect her to return to work here as a fully functioning member of personnel and have the base none the wiser, something I'd like noted I disagree with, she'll need time to come to terms with what has happened. It should be away from here, as dealing with people she knows from the SGC won't help to start with. I would have nominated Colonel Carter to be the one, but you've already stated you want SG-1 out of the loop on this one for now."

"Any other people we could rely on instead?"

Brightman flicked through the papers in front of her before pausing. Hammond inclined his head as permission to speak her mind. "I was going to suggest O'Neill's ex-wife, Sara."

Hammond stared at her as if she'd lost her mind. "Sara O'Neill?"

"Daniels now, Sir."

At Hammond's blank look the Doctor pushed on. "She remarried several years ago. She's Sara Daniels now, Sir."

"And you recommend her because?"

"She knows O'Neill well, she's a woman, and she is not part of SG-1."

"She's not part of the SGC at all. We'd have to tell her the truth if we wanted her to accept that Jackie O'Neill is her former husband."

"True, we'd have to tell her. But we'd have to contact her and tell her something anyway when O'Neill fails to turn up to meet her at their son's grave in three weeks time."

Hammond sat back and thought about the suggestion, his fingers woven together and brow furrowed. Brightman simply ignored the man and continued to read over the Joint Chiefs plan of attack for what they had dubbed the 'O'Neill Problem'.

Finally, Hammond said, "I'll inform the Joint Chiefs of your suggestion. If they give the go-ahead I'll have her here and briefed by 1400 today. Be prepared to answer her questions as to how we're sure that the woman in the infirmary is her ex-husband."

Brightman nodded. O'Neill had just been shafted by the USAF he had served for many years, simply because he'd always been something of a loose cannon. For some of the higher ups, this change of gender and age was an accident simply too good to pass up. With it they could remove O'Neill completely from the SGC. Obviously Hammond had fought to keep O'Neill at Cheyenne Mountain, hence the deceptions with 'Captain Jacqueline O'Neill'. The fact that SG-1 had been excluded from knowing what had happened to their ex-CO told Brightman that some of her superiors didn't want the flagship team of the SGC spending their time searching for potential solutions to O'Neill's gender change. She didn't like the subterfuge, but she had her orders. For now she wasn't looking forward to O'Neill's reaction when she learnt what her fate was. Hell, she wasn't looking forward to her reaction when she learned she was now a woman.

Dismissed, Brightman left the office that still bore the plate 'Brigadier General J. O'Neill' where Hammond was already reaching for the red phone.

xxx

O'Neill smacked his lips a few times, trying to get rid of the horrible taste of cardboard that had seemingly taken up residence in his mouth. There was a feminine groan somewhere close by and O'Neill figured somebody must be with him, wherever he was. He tried to open his eyes, but they were stubbornly refusing to co-operate. Not a particular surprise given his reputation as being incredibly stubborn. There was the sound of a curtain being drawn back and O'Neill figured that he must be in the infirmary — again.

"Back with us, O'Neill. How do you feel?"

At Brightman's voice O'Neill turned his head, but managed only a slight shift. His body felt so weak and tired, like he'd run an intense training course several times over.

"Tired. Weak."

_Woah! Was that his voice?_ Jack tried to move again and again failed.

"That's to be expected given the trauma that your body has just undergone. Do you recall what happened?" There followed the sounds of paper and pen, Jack figuring that Dr. Brightman was shuffling through her notes about his latest brush with injury.

"Not much. We'd had lunch and then Hallan was reaching to shake my hand. There was... light, I guess. And then waking here with the taste of cardboard in my mouth."

Brightman huffed at O'Neill's summary of events. "You were in a coma for almost twelve hours as a result of whatever happened to you."

"And just what did happen to me?" barked Jack as he forced his eyes to open, lids still feeling very heavy. His gaze focused on the Doctor standing by his bed in the infirmary.

"Well," started Brightman. "The coma is probably a side effect of the rather large upheaval you body has just been through."

"What upheaval? And what happened to my voice?" Jack was beginning to get a little annoyed at his predicament.

Brightman jacked the top of the bed up so that it was now in a sitting position. From there Jack was able to look down and understand just how different things were.

"This isn't the result of concussion is it...?"

Brightman shook her head sadly. "We don't know what caused it. Or why, but for all intents and purposes, O'Neill, you are now female."

Gingerly, and with much effort, O'Neill raised one of her hands to her head and touched the much-changed planes of her face. "I'm a woman?"

"Yes, not only that, but you are now about half your original age. I've estimated you to be around twenty-four years of age."

"I feel so weak."

Resting a sympathetic hand on O'Neill's other unmoving hand, Dr. Brightman looked the young woman in the eye. "That will change as your body recovers from the shock of the alterations. As near as I can tell you are perfectly healthy and can essentially leave the infirmary when you are able to move under your own power. However—."

"However," cut in O'Neill, "This situation is just so bizarre that even if I did up and walk out of here, no one would be able to deal with it. Heck, I doubt any of them would listen to a word I say anymore given I no longer look like myself."

"I must say you are taking this extremely well."

Jack grinned slightly and pointed to herself. "You were betting I'd be ranting and raving? Demanding that you do something about this immediately?"

Brightman nodded and Jack sighed, letting her moving hand flop back onto the bed. "For one, I just don't have the energy to do that. Two, I don't think it will accomplish anything, and three..."

"Three?"

"Three. Despite the cliché, I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop."

Dr. Brightman ducked her head and frowned. "Shall I drop it for you?"

Jack waved a hand. "Go ahead. Inform me of just how bad this is going to get."

Sitting down in the chair beside the bed the Doctor put her clipboard down on the bed and rubbed her forehead tiredly. "General Hammond is on base, filling in for you in your 'absence'," Brightman began, using her hand to make the air quotes as she finished the sentence.

"Good for George. I take it he knows what has happened?"

Nodding Brightman ploughed on, "As do SG-5, who were with you when this happened, as do the President and Joint Chiefs whom General Hammond called in order to find out how this situation is to be dealt with."

Jack sighed again. "I bet they were laughing their arses off. General Jack O'Neill gets turned into a woman. Go on, there must be more bad news beyond my humiliation in the upper circles of the government."

"I believe that elements within the government and the Air Force saw this as an opportunity to remove you from the SGC, as who would believe that you are General O'Neill? Reading between the lines, I'd say that Hammond fought this, with the help of President Hayes. They've managed to keep you in the Air Force and the SGC should you choose to stay here and be cleared for duty."

"Okay. But that totally clichéd shoe hasn't dropped yet."

"To keep you on staff they've had to make concessions. One of which is your identity."

Jack closed her eyes in an effort to keep her emotions in check. "So, what's my new moniker? Barbarella?" Her tone more than slightly sarcastic.

Snorting at O'Neill's sense of humour Brightman shook her head. "No, I'm afraid that you've woken up to new life as one Captain Jacqueline O'Neill."

"Jacqueline? That was the best they could come up with?"

"Hammond suggested 'Jackie' as a compromise nickname. I think they wanted something familiar to you so that you'd respond to it rather than call you Anne and have you give people blank stares because you've not realised that they are addressing you."

"That makes sense," conceded O'Neill as she flexed the fingers of both her hands, feeling some strength start to come back to them. "But Captain? I'm gonna have to take orders from some of the idiots who were once below me?"

"Well you are now officially only twenty-four. It'd be kind of hard to explain how you reached Brigadier General in such a short time."

"And the same surname, how do explain that one away?"

"Simple really," replied Brightman. "You're your own niece, named after your Air Force General uncle."

"But I _was _an only child. Daniel knows that and anybody can find that out by checking the records."

"All taken care of so I am told."

"And that is it? Jack O'Neill no longer exists?"

"He's been transferred to the Pentagon immediately. After that, who knows? If nobody goes looking for him he'll probably just disappear into the paperwork. Hammond will fill in till the replacement arrives."

Jacqueline O'Neill opened her eyes and turned her head to look at the seated medical officer. "This isn't going to work you know. As soon as SG-1 gets back, they're gonna want to know what happened. And once they meet me I'm sure they'll put two and two together."

"Yes, well that's why other stipulations were made."

"Joy." It was a pity she hadn't been conscious when all these decisions about her future were being taken, as it would have given her the opportunity to vent some of her feelings about the predicament she found herself in to those making these choices. It rankled that she had no say at all, feeling that at the very least they owed her enough to wait till she had woken up.

"SG-1 are not going to be among those informed about what happened to you. They'll be told the same thing as everybody else not in the know, that you were transferred. And they won't be meeting you right away either, nor will the rest of the base."

"They won't?" the patient asked in surprise.

"Jackie," the Doctor began, noting the flinch the nickname caused. "You are going to need time to settle into your new body and learn to deal with being female. To that end you're going to be placed with someone who can help you through the transition."

"You're making this all sound rather permanent."

"That's because I'm afraid it might be." She held up a hand to forestall any comments from the increasingly angry young woman in the bed. "SG-1 isn't being told about this because those higher up who don't like you don't want the SGC flagship team tied up for possibly months or even years looking for a cure that may not even exist. We both know that they would spend that time searching for it if people let them. SG-5 will be able to return to P5X-878, while you are off adjusting, for a couple of weeks. But if they don't find anything then there are standing orders to lock P5X-878 out of the system in case what happened to you happens to more people."

"You sound about as happy about this plan as I do Doc." For this, at least one person fighting in her corner for her, O'Neill was grateful.

The older woman nodded. "I may have only know you for a few months O'Neill, and then not even very well since our paths don't cross that often, but I'm absolutely pissed off at how casually they are just wiping your old life from existence."

"Just chalk it up as another mark on the tally of crap that life throws at me." There was a pause and another sigh. "So what is this adjusting period then? Who's being forced to play baby-sitter? It can't be anyone from SG-1 as you've said they are out of the loop."

"The matter hasn't been decided yet, but I did recommend to General Hammond that your ex-wife might be the best choice."

"Sara? Why her?"

"She knows you, Jackie. Plus, she's a woman so she can show you the ropes so to speak."

"But she knows nothing about the SGC! I can't see her believing that I'm her ex-husband."

"That is what Hammond said too," acknowledged Brightman. "But he's on the phone seeing if he can get clearance for her to know enough about the Stargate programme so that she will accept that you are who we say you are."

"And you really think she'll agree to help?"

Brightman nodded. "I do. You may be divorced and Sara remarried, but I doubt that the pair of you can truly say that you hate each other and wouldn't help the other if asked."

Jackie could only nod slightly at the truth of that statement.

P7X-135

0726 hrs

Samantha Carter woke in her sleeping bag to the sounds of Daniel Jackson outside her tent busy making what was probably his third cup of coffee since he had taken over for the third and final watch, which led into the morning. Resigning herself to the need to be up and moving, Carter pulled herself together and dressed.

Emerging from her tent, she exchanged morning greetings with SG-1's errant history geek and slipped off into the bushes to take care of her basic human needs before returning to the campsite. Daniel pressed a mug of hot coffee into her hands, which she gratefully accepted. A little way out from the camp she could just make out the form of Teal'c as he make a check of the perimeter before returning to join them for breakfast.

Daniel held up two MRE packets. "What's it to be today, Sam? Packet A, which tastes not unlike chicken, or packet B, which again tastes not unlike chicken."

Returning the man's grin Sam replied, "I'll take packet B today, thank you, Doctor Jackson."

Watching him as he set about preparing breakfast, Sam couldn't help but think back to the conversation she'd had with Teal'c the night before. "Daniel?"

"Hmmm," was the reply.

"Have you talked with Teal'c this morning?"

"Of course. I'm hardly going to ignore him, Sam. General O'Neill I'm not."

Sam bit back a wince at this reply, but at least it told her that Teal'c had yet to share with Daniel what he had told her prior to her watch the evening before.

When the former First Prime returned to the campsite and breakfast was served, Carter casually reminded Teal'c of their conversation and helped him to explain to Daniel their collective thoughts concerning the General.

"I must admit I never thought that it was us that were doing the freezing out. Jack always seemed like such an insular, self-contained type of guy. You know, like that now he was General he didn't really need us anymore." Daniel rubbed the bridge of his nose, temporarily dislodging his glasses in the process. "How do you think Jack is really dealing with this? I know I'd be pretty miffed about the whole situation."

"But, Daniel, you have to admit that you probably would have made noises about being ignored long before now."

"Indeed," contributed Teal'c. "O'Neill has not treated us any differently now when compared to his past behaviour. This makes it difficult to ascertain exactly how he feels about this 'cold shoulder'.'"

"Jack's not a machine, Sam. He has to be hurting somewhere on the inside, and given he has no family and, possibly more importantly, no friends outside of the SGC, he has no one to turn to about this. If we hadn't been the root of the problem then he probably would have come to us for advice."

"So how do we deal with this, Daniel, especially since we are the problem?" Sam threw another pebble out of the camping area in frustration, unaware just how much she was acting like her CO at that point.

"I guess we just have to go with your initial idea, Sam. Start by inviting him back to our get-togethers outside of the mountain. Talk to him when he's not in his office. We don't have to rush things and swamp his schedule 24/7, but spending time with him, no matter how trivial the way in which that time is spent, is the best start."

"Agreed," supplied Teal'c. "It is the anniversary of CharlieO'Neill's death in three weeks time, DanielJackson. Would that not be a good time to demonstrate to O'Neill that he is still our friend?"

"Perhaps," agreed Daniel, casting a glance at Sam. "But it's not exactly a time of year that Jack is going to be particularly receptive to an offered olive branch. We need to be there for him at that time, but I'd like us to have won back his friendship by then rather than use that event as our starting point."

Sam let out a huff of air. "So we've got less than three weeks to remedy a situation that has dragged on for at least five or more months?"

"That about sums it up, Sam. It's going to be no easy feat, given how prickly Jack can be emotionally even at the best of times. But I consider myself his friend and I for one am not going to rest till I know I'm secure once more in that regard."

Teal'c and Carter agreed, a moment which marked the end of both the conversation for now and of breakfast. Minutes later SG-1 was busy breaking camp.

SGC

1135 hrs

Hammond slipped through the plastic curtain surrounding O'Neill's bed and seated himself in the uncomfortable plastic chair by the bed, hands holding onto a file that resembled _War and Peace_ in size. He locked eyes with the young woman sitting upright in the bed and then looked away in shame. This wasn't going to be an easy conversation, although Brightman had informed him while Jackie had been napping that she had already filled O'Neill in on most of the details.

"Hello, Sir."

George was almost relieved to have Jackie make the opening move in this conversation, which for Hammond was a sign that maybe this transition wasn't going to be as hard for the Air Force officer as he had feared it would be. Combined with Brightman's assessment of her earlier conversation with the transformed O'Neill, Hammond was positive that things could be salvaged.

"O'Neill. How are you feeling?"

"Peachy." The tone of voice was pure O'Neill, despite the higher pitch.

Hammond nodded and wiped his sweaty palms against the fabric of his trousers. "Brightman tells me that she has already informed you of much of what is going on."

"Yes, Sir."

"Well son... ah..."

A small smirk had crept onto O'Neill's face. "Quit while you're ahead, Sir."

"Yes well," began Hammond, trying to regroup from his gaffe. "What I want to know is are you still willing to come back to the SGC once you've adjusted to the situation and have been cleared for duty?"

"Do you mean, am I willing to come back and pretend to be my own niece, Sir?"

Hammond nodded, not trusting his voice.

"Can you tell me what would happen to me if I decided not to, after all I was looking forward to retiring after a year of being 'the Man'."

"Unless you are declared unfit for duty O'Neill then you actually have no choice. Given your background and skills, those who do like you want to keep you as involved with the SGC as possible. If this hadn't happened," George Hammond waved at Jackie's body, "Then after your year as CO of the SGC you would have been promoted to Head of Homeworld Security."

"But I was going to retire, go fishing."

"The Joint Chiefs wouldn't have let you go. You're just too valuable."

Jacqueline folded her arms and glared at Hammond. "Nice to know I'm wanted."

There was an awkward silence in the empty infirmary.

"So, the plan? Might as well fill me in 'cause it seems my wishes don't count for squat."

Hammond could only flinch at the venom directed his way. He and the President had called in a few markers to help keep Jackie at the SGC despite some heavy resistance from those O'Neill had managed to piss off during his career. He had hoped to make her feel wanted by pointing out that the SGC needed her, but that had obviously backfired.

"You're on a minimum of three months downtime, primarily to adjust to what has happened. Approval came through a short while ago, to let your ex-wife Sara know enough about things to enable her to help you. Should you feel ready, we'll have you back on an SG team by early January at the earliest."

"Any particular team?" asked O'Neill curiously.

"SG-5, purely because they already know what happened."

"That's Major Hallan's team. Are you sure he's going to play ball?"

Hammond gave a strained smile. "He's loosing Layton because of this. You'll be going in as Hallan's second in command."

"Tactics and backup then Sir?"

"Ah, no."

O'Neill looked rather pointedly at her superior officer. "No, Sir?"

Wincing at the latest revelation now being dumped on one of his favourite officers, Hammond carried on as best he could. "You're being assigned as a military scientist. The plan is to move James onto another SG team before Christmas."

"A scientist? Sir, you know I don't know one end of a spectro-whatsit from the other! How the hell am I supposed to be a team scientist?"

"Jackie," snapped Hammond waving the thick file in his hands in front of the USAF Captain and ignoring the flinch the nickname provoked. "This is your file, your _whole_, uneditedfile. When this all went down the President had it delivered to me. And I must say it makes for some damn enlightening reading." He had been surprised by the hitherto unknown contents of the file.

Jacqueline looked away from her CO, fixing her eyes on a smudge on the far wall of the infirmary. "Oh I don't know, Sir. Not really sure if you can trust what is written in there."

"Degrees in Chemistry and Mathematics, not to mention a PhD in Quantum Mechanics. Why the hell did you not mention this to anyone?"

"Why the hell are you getting angry?" There was a pause before Jacqueline added, "Sir."

"Surely that sort of knowledge would have benefited the SGC!"

"It did."

"It did?"

Jacqueline nodded looking back at Hammond and tapping her temple. "I used what's up here quite often to get us out of a sticky situation, just made damn sure no one realised what was going on when I did."

"Why?"

"Orders, Sir. You can't expect me to talk about things that I was expressly forbidden to talk about. I went into the Air Force as a Captain, never did any of the basic training or rank climbing. I'm in the USAF purely because a previous President thought this would be a good place to stick me while things blew over."

Hammond opened the file and began scanning to see the details he'd missed in his skim read prior to this conversation. "You needed things to blow over?"

"You know me, Sir, always making 'friends' where ever I go. Things were just getting too hot in the late Eighties. President had me slotted into the USAF. No one noticed. Once I'd hooked up with Sara there didn't seem to be any point in going back. Still did the occasional op when asked. And then the Stargate happened and as you've said, I'm wanted here."

"And if you hadn't married Sara and had Charlie?"

Jacqueline shrugged her shoulders. "I wouldn't be here."

Jacqueline's CO looked at her. "For crying out loud!" complained Jacqueline as she gave in to the stare the Lieutenant General was giving her. "Fine. I'd be somewhere else pretending to be someone else. But I have a sneaking suspicion that I would have been assigned to the SGC at some point after it was reactivated in Ninety-seven. Probably in a civilian position like Danny-boy's."

"So you'd have no problem being a military scientist for SG-5?"

"Walk in the park, Sir, walk in the park," sighed Jacqueline knowing she had little way out of her current predicament.

P7X-135

1310 hrs

Carter had called an end to the lunch break and was in the process of packing up the cooking gear as Teal'c stood and grabbed his ever-present staff weapon. Moments later he was gone from SG-1's lunch spot to survey the area. Since breaking for breakfast the three-man team had made good time and had arrived at the ruins that the UAV had sighted prior to the mission in time for lunch. Daniel had fairly inhaled his lunch and was already wandering around the ruins, mumbling to himself as he observed the architecture and took notes.

The fog of depression that Daniel and Teal'c had carried with them upon arriving on P7X-135 had lifted now that the team had decided what to do about their friendship with the General. Both were happy, Teal'c cracking genuine smiles that she had only just realised had been missing for the last few months. She hadn't understood till now just how much the Jaf'fa had valued his relationship with his fellow Tau'ri warrior. And she kicked herself for that, given how he had thrown his lot in with the SGC purely because of O'Neill.

Daniel was pretty much bouncing with excitement once more, the much-subdued archaeologist of the previous months a thing of the past.

Carter was annoyed with herself at how she had failed to see how distressed her friends and teammates had been over SG-1's estrangement from the General. In her attempt to forge a life outside of the SGC and deal with her feelings for General O'Neill, she'd precipitated the dissolution of the ties that had held three of the most important people in her life together. Why had she let things fall apart?

It was true that her relationship with Pete had swallowed up a lot of her time and thoughts beyond what she devoted to her work. Despite her engagement to the man, she'd found herself having to devote more and more time to keeping things with him on an even keel. But it had been wrong of her to, in the process of building her ties with Pete, let those with her friends go.

Perhaps she had gone too far to one extreme, sacrificing important parts of her life, in order to placate Pete. Carter shuddered at that thought. She didn't like the image of herself bending to Pete's needs and forgetting her own as it reminded her too much of her failed engagement with Jonas Hansen. Sam was determined that her relationship with Pete was not going to be a repeat of her first engagement. To prove that to her and restore the bonds of friendship that SG-1 had forged years ago, Pete was just going to have to accept that she was going to spend a significant amount of social time with three men.

It was going to be tricky convincing Pete of this, she knew. Teal'c, despite not having uttered a single word, for or against, about her fiancé Pete, did not seem to approve of the man. Carter had by now almost convinced herself that this was because Pete wasn't a warrior, even though he was part of the police force. There was the added factor that Daniel didn't seem to like Pete either, having confided to her on one particularly drunk occasion that the fluff down the back of a sofa had more wit and intelligence than Pete Shanahan. It had taken Samantha Carter two weeks to forgive the archaeologist.

Surprisingly, despite the limited time spent together since SG-1 had begun accidentally ignoring the General, O'Neill had simply remarked "as long as he makes you happy, I'm happy". General Jack O'Neill it seemed had no problem with her relationship with Pete. An attitude she had simply taken to mean that, despite words to contrary some four years earlier, he no longer cared for her 'more than he was supposed to'.

No, the other problem with convincing Pete that he had to let her spend time with her SG-1 mates was General O'Neill. More to the point, Pete's dislike for the man sometimes bordered on obsession. She couldn't fathom what could have happened between the pair, given their limited exposure to each other, that had engendered such a dislike on Pete's part. Perhaps she could talk to Pete about it when she explained the threesome's plan to spend more with the General.

Lunch taken care of, Carter moved to check the perimeter.

SGC

1422 hrs

Jacqueline walked three steps behind Dr. Brightman as they made their way to one of the many briefing rooms hidden in the warren of corridors that made up the SGC complex below NORAD. She was going to be facing her ex-wife Sara for the first time in a year, and this time Sara was going to be faced with a changed ex-partner. Jacqueline didn't know how this scenario was going to play. Hammond would have briefed the woman by now with what she would need to know in order to understand what had happened, and no more. As far as Jacqueline could tell Sara hadn't run screaming from the complex. That was a good sign.

As the pair of women drew close to the door to the briefing room, Jacqueline found her level of agitation growing. Brightman knocked on the door and Hammond could be heard giving permission to enter. The door opened and she concentrated on the white smock that Brightman wore over her clothes as they entered the room and sat down. Forcing herself to look up, Jacqueline took into the sad smile of her CO and then the deeply concentrating face of her ex-wife.

For her part, Sara sat dumbfounded as the young woman in some horribly mismatched clothing sat down opposite herself and eventually looked up. General Hammond had calmly and patiently explained why he had asked for her to come to the mountain. Then he had dropped the news of what her ex-husband did under said mountain, which explained the bizarre situation that had taken place some seven years earlier with what she had been told was a hallucination of Charlie.

All of that however was blown clean out of the water by the bombshell dropped about what had recently happened to Jack. So here she was, sitting across a table from what George Hammond was claiming to be her former husband. As she stared hard at the young woman's face she began to see the man in some of the features, the warm expressive brown eyes, and in the nervous fidgeting. She let the young woman know that she wasn't the enemy by smiling gently at her.

"Doctor Brightman, O'Neill."

The two nodded at the General's greeting. "Well," Hammond began, "I've filled in Sara here with what she needs to know. Doctor Brightman, if you'd please, fill us in on O'Neill's status." Hammond cast a glance Jacqueline's way and got a subtle nod back indicating that the woman was okay with how things were going so far.

"Jackie—"

That drew a hiss from the named woman. The three others at the table all looked her way. "Don't like the nickname," she explained. "Just call me Jac. Jay. Aye. Cee."

Brightman nodded in acceptance and made a note in her ever-present clipboard of notes.

"_Jac _is perfectly healthy and in better condition than she has been in the last twenty-five plus years. No diseases or strange things in her blood work beyond the presence of some naquadah from—" Brightman stopped and looked at Hammond who sighed and nodded. "From the Goa'uld that Hathor attempted to implant five years ago. She also retains the Ancient gene which will relieve the Asgaard."

Jac shook her head in an attempt to stop laughing.

"The naquadah may, like Colonel Carter, cause complications should Jac ever wish to carry a child."

"Woah, hey hey hey! _Carry a child_? As in become pregnant?" This was not something that Jac has considered since learning of her gender swap, but was clearly something Dr. Brightman had thought of.

Hammond looked like he'd swallowed a lemon and Sara was trying to look at anything other than Jac as a huge grin split her face. Payback could be a bitch. "Yes Jac, while you unconscious we performed all the standard tests for a female officer after returning through the stargate. Other than the naquadah in your blood, all the tests came back fine."

"Pregnant?" exclaimed the new woman while staring at her hands.

"Moving on please," pleaded Hammond from his seat.

"Jac is still somewhat weak, a result of the massive trauma her body has undergone due to the gender and age changes. But that is quickly remedying itself and she should be back to her peak by the end of the week. In summary, as far as things go physically Jac is one hundred percent fine."

"And mentally?" prompted Hammond.

"I'm not mental," sulked Jac.

The three 'adults' at the table all rolled their eyes at the childish behaviour on display.

"It's not like we really have a base line to work from here for this situation. People who undergo 'gender reassignment' have sessions of counselling and hormone treatment long before the surgery takes place, so they've had time to make the necessary adjustments in their life. Jac has had none of those, going from male one day to completely female the next.

"Jac has been given three months leave to begin this adjustment. I'm not expecting you, Jac, to come back to the SGC after three months and act like you were born a woman, that's just not possible. You have got fifty-four years worth of male hormones and experiences, not to mention societal pressure, which will not make this a smooth transition. I expect that after those initial three months, which will be something akin to a crash course in how to be a woman, you'll still have to make further adjustments as time goes by."

"So it'll be like doing three months of boxing practise and then going to the gym three times a week to keep up my skills and develop new ones?"

"That's a good enough analogy, Jac, yes. I'll be here at the SGC should you or Sara need to call for help, advice, or just someone to listen to you," offered Brightman.

"Your thoughts, Sara?" asked a tentative Jac.

"Well, I can't say this is what I was expecting when General Hammond called me in this afternoon. I had thought that it was more likely that you were dead or somehow put out of action. I talked this through before you and Doctor Brightman came in, and I'm willing to have a go at helping you adjust Jac.

This won't be easy for either of us. You'll be sleeping in the spare room in a house that I share with my husband Michael. That alone would be enough of a problem right there and I'll admit I'm worried that such an arrangement won't be good for your mental health."

Jac sighed. "Sara, I had to accept that you were no longer a part of my life almost ten years ago. I may not be particularly good at processing my own thoughts and emotions when it comes to personal things, but I have accepted that you have moved on with your life and I am happy for you in that respect.

"I'm more concerned that my presence will make you uncomfortable and that you'd feel unable to act around Michael like you normally do just because I'm in the same house. I don't want that. I want you to carry on as you would if you had any other female guest to stay. However, if you keep me awake at night because of your lovemaking then expect me to complain the following morning 'cause I'm a light sleeper!"

The cheeky grin that followed the end of that statement broke the ice and the four of them were able to share a good laugh and release the tension that had been building all day.

"So we're ready to proceed then?" Hammond received three nods.

Xxx

ADDITIONAL THANKS: To some minor beta readers of this chapter; Christy Newman, Major Claire, Emily Linton, JollyGoald, Karen Mills, and Renee.


	2. Without

THANKS: A big thank you to Karen Joy who worked hard as my Beta on this chapter.

Xxx

**TWO: Without **

P7X-135

October 1st, 2004

1410 hrs

Daniel Jackson was in his element. The ruins had proven particularly fruitful in writings and he was beginning to wonder if he had enough time to get them all down. They weren't due back at the SGC until the third, but there were just so many writings plus a large number of languages, some of which Daniel hadn't seen before. What he wasn't immediately copying and/or translating, he had Teal'c videotaping with the video camera he had brought with him. Meanwhile, SG-1's CO was out making another check of the perimeter of the ruins before making a start on setting up camp.

Sitting down to take a break like he'd promised Sam before she disappeared on her perimeter check, Daniel turned to Teal'c and gestured that the Jaf'fa join him in taking a rest. Teal'c nodded sagely and switched the video camera off before sitting down next to Daniel on the fallen stone column that the younger man had chosen as a seat. The archaeologist pulled a couple of candy bars from a pocket on his BDUs and offered one to the larger man. Teal'c nodded and smiled in thanks and grasped one of the bars in his large, meaty hand.

Once he'd consumed the bar, Daniel sized up his teammate. "So, Teal'c, what do you think?"

"What do I think about what, DanielJackson?"

"This plan to spend more social time with Jack again?"

"The idea has merit."

Daniel pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "You have reservations I take it?"

"Indeed," remarked the Jaf'fa. "ColonelCarter is sadly mistaken if she thinks that she can simply spend more time with us and O'Neill and not have either her work or her relationship with PeteShanahan suffer."

"And we both know that Sam is a workaholic. I know from reading between the lines that Pete's already upset with how much time Sam spends at work and with us. If she ends up spending even less time with Pete because of this new plan of hers, then the guy is going to be seriously angry."

The former First Prime shook his head slowly and sadly, expelling a breath of air in the process. "That is not the only drawback to ColonelCarter's plan, DanielJackson."

"There's another? I thought that objection was pretty big!"

"It is. However, have you observed PeteShanahan's dislike for O'Neill?"

Daniel looked at the paving stones beneath his feet as if they contained the meaning of life. "Can't say that I have, Teal'c, but then Jack's one of those guys you either love or hate at first sight. So you're saying that Pete doesn't like Jack? They've hardly said a word to each other!"

"That may be so, but I believe that ColonelCarter talks about O'Neill quite a bit when in the company of PeteShanahan. I believe that the detective resents the influence that O'Neill has on ColonelCarter's life."

"Have you been reading between the lines, Teal'c?" Daniel got a smile from the Jaf'fa. "So, following that line of thought then, if Sam goes through with this plan we'll have a situation where she's spending more time with a man that Pete already dislikes, at the expense of her free time with her fiancé."

"That is my own summation of the situation should ColonelCarter press ahead with her plans. I fear the outcome for ColonelCarter should she be forced to choose between PeteShanahan and O'Neill."

Daniel dropped his head into his hands. "This is so not good."

Michael & Sara Daniels' house, Colorado Springs

1448 hrs

The trip from the SGC was conducted in silence, with neither Sara nor Jac willing to begin a conversation that they weren't sure they could see to the end. It was only as Sara's SUV pulled up into the driveway of her home that the deadlock ended. Killing the engine, Sara removed her seat belt and turned in the driver's seat to better look at her passenger. Jac was obviously oblivious to the fact that she currently maintained a death grip on the door handle and the seat belt that secured her waist.

Reaching out a hand Sara touched the younger woman on the arm, softly adding, "Jac honey, we're home."

"Honey?" Jac raised one eyebrow in a fashion that would have made Teal'c proud.

Sara grinned. "It got your attention didn't it? Come on, let's get you settled in and then we'll have a cup of coffee."

Jac removed her own seat belt and clambered out of the car, taking time to stretch her legs and look over Sara's new home, a nice two-story house with a small and tidy front lawn through which a series of paving stones led to the front door.

Turning back to the SUV, Jac opened the larger side door and pulled out the two bags that contained what little clothing she had that along with those toiletries that Doctor Brightman had deemed necessary. Jac grimaced as she recalled the short lesson on feminine hygiene the doctor gave her. There were so many new things to learn and so little space in her Ancient-head-sucky-thing-abused brain.

Slamming the car door shut with a heave, something that earned Jac a somewhat reproving glare from Sara, the two women made their way up the path to the front door and within moments Jac found herself standing in the hall of the house.

From the hall, a set of stairs quickly climbed to the second floor and three different doors opened out into other rooms on the ground floor. Jac figured she'd get to see these other rooms soon enough as Sara indicated that she follow her up the stairs in search of the spare room.

The second floor was just as filled with doors as the first, one of which opened into the spare room. The room was at the front of the house, Sara apologized that Jac might find the sound of the heavy traffic that passed by somewhat distracting at first. The two made quick work of the bed and opened a window to air out the room as Jac stuffed her limited wardrobe into a chest of drawers in the room.

Sara pointed out the bathroom and toilet on the second floor, as well as the door to the bedroom she shared with Michael, before they made their way back down stairs where Jac was shown the lounge, kitchen, den, and a multitude of other rooms.

Jac positioned herself on a stool in the kitchen and watched as Sara set about making the promised cups of coffee, moving in a way that Jac recognized from their time together as husband and wife.

"So," began Jac, "What sort of 'house rules' do I have to know about in order to help me keep my foot out of my mouth."

"'House rules'?"

Jac shrugged. "You know. Like, Michael and you have certain TV shows that you watch so the set is a no go at those times. Don't leave beer bottle caps in the sink. Do your own laundry. No wild drunken parties while you and Michael are out of the house. Don't offend the neighbors. That sort of thing."

Sara giggled lightly and passed Jac a cup of coffee. "Michael's not a big fan of television. He's a radio buff and also likes to tinker a lot out in his shed." Here Sara gestured out the doors that led onto a patio at the back of the house. Through the glass, Jac could make out a small shed at the bottom of the lawn.

"So that's a no go zone then?" offered Jac with a lopsided grin.

"Sure," Sara replied, her eyes sparkling. "Only I get to visit the inner sanctum, and only then if I come with an offering of coffee."

The two women shared a laugh. Jac suddenly went quiet and put down her coffee. Sara caught the change in a mood and moved to put a hand on Jac's shoulder in a show of support. "I can't even begin to imagine what you're going through, Jac, but I'm here to help if I can."

Looking up at the older woman Jac sighed. "It's just, for a moment there all I saw was two women sharing a joke about a husband. I couldn't see me there at all. I guess I'm beginning to realize that this is all so permanent and wondering what will be left of me by the end of it."

"'Left of you'? You're not going to change, Jac."

"Maybe, but Brightman's little talk on how my brand spanking new set of female hormones may have me doing or thinking things that I never have before spooked me. I'm worried that I'll lose me in there somewhere and all that will be left behind is a young woman no one recognizes."

Sara pulled the woman into a hug. "You'll survive, Jac. If I came away from our marriage with at least one thing, it is the knowledge that you're a survivor. You've been through worse. You can get past this."

Jac nodded, her face still buried in Sara's shoulder. She could feel tears leaking out the corners of her eyes that she had squeezed tightly shut. Sara's hand stroked up and down the woman's back as Jac broke down into a series of body shaking sobs. "Let it out, Jac."

For a long time the two women just existed, Jac, half seated on the stool, and Sara wrapped protectively around her. Eventually Jac straightened and Sara let go. "Sorry."

Sara rolled her eyes. "You don't need to apologize, Jac, you obviously needed that, and I'm sure that won't be the last time either. You've got a lot of things to mourn and let go from your old life."

The two wandered into the lounge and settled down at opposite ends of the sofa. "So how is Michael going to handle this? Does he even know I'll be staying here for three months? I'd hate it if Hammond put you on the spot."

"It's okay, Jac. I spoke to Michael on the phone before you and Brightman came to the briefing room. He knows that you'll be here and that you're the niece of my ex-husband. You'll get no complaints from him."

Jac nodded in acceptance, happy that her presence wasn't going to cause any immediate problems.

"Can I ask you a question, Jac?" The younger woman nodded and adjusted her bra, an item of clothing she was still trying to get used to.

Smiling lightly at Jac's discomfort with the bra, Sara sized up the woman. "Jac, did you have someone special in your life who's going to miss you?"

The stunned look on Jac's face told Sara what she needed to know. "No...I guess, yes. No, not really."

"Jac?"

Mouth suddenly dry, Jac tried to work some spit back into it to voice an explanation. "There was someone who I worked with. But we are, _were_, in the same chain of command and so nothing could ever be done about it. Plus I think, on her side, it was nothing more than a sort of puppy love, a kind of hero worship because I'd led that first mission through the stargate."

Sara nodded sadly.

"It was all one sided. I never had the guts to do anything about it, old Jack O'Neill too scared to act. Then she met a guy and they're now engaged, which pretty much clinched it for me that she never really had any feelings for me.

"And even if she did feel the same way as I do and this guy wasn't in the picture, my rather sudden gender change has put an end to those rather sad fantasies. So to answer your question, Sara: no, there isn't somebody special in my life."

The younger woman at the end of the sofa suddenly seemed so deflated and bereft of life. All animation was gone, her eyes fixed on a spot on the carpeted floor.

"Friends?"

"Huh?" was all Jac could manage.

"Well, if there is no one special who'll miss you, how about friends then? Will you need to write them some sort of message to explain why you are no longer around?"

Jac rubbed her fingers together. "I had thought...no." She sighed again, ruefully noting that she seemed to be doing that a lot at the moment.

"No friends, Jac? Surely...," Sara trailed off at the broken look on Jac's face.

"I thought I had friends, one of them being the woman who was never anything but a pipe dream." Jac ran a hand over her face as she collected her thoughts. "They were on my team at the SGC and we went through seven years and seven kinds of hell together but always came out laughing."

"But?" prompted Sara, suddenly a little worried at the bleak social life her ex-husband was painting for her.

"Well, she got herself her man and started drifting away. Different priorities I guess. And the other two just seemed to follow her lead. Then I was promoted to General and suddenly there was this wall between us. I was over the fence looking in. We never did things outside the SGC anymore, hell I almost never saw them outside a briefing the last six months. I've been very tired and very lonely for a while now, Sara."

"And now you've lost what little you had in that life."

Jac turned her face away from Sara, and the older women knew that it was an attempt to prevent her from seeing the tears that were surely falling. So much pain was what Sara could see, and very little in return for it. She shuffled across the sofa and pulled Jac's head into her lap, stroking the long dark hair that splayed across the girl's shoulder.

P7X-135

1834 hrs

There was less than half an hour to go before SG-1 had to clock in via radio with the SGC. Teal'c had offered to make the call and, having already finished his MRE, was even now making his way back to the stargate and the MALP leaving Carter and Jackson to finished their meals and clean up.

The afternoon session at the ruins had been just as filled as the morning one. Although this time around Teal'c provided the cover while Sam filmed various groups of writing between settings up and executing her various scientific field-tests that would provide further background about the planet that the MALP couldn't supply.

The light had been steadily failing for the last hour, forcing Daniel to give up at the ruins and retire to the campsite. Carter had built up the beginnings of a good sized fire which now spilled light in all directions, picking out the tents set up nearby for the team to overnight in. Daniel was sitting cross-legged near the fire, notebook resting on one thigh as he sat with his legs folded. His eyes crossed from his notebook to the page of the book he was holding in his left hand.

"You and Teal'c seemed a little quite tonight, Daniel. Something wrong?"

Daniel glanced up at the Colonel and put down both the book and the notebook he'd just scribble a note on. Getting up, he wandered over to where Carter sat and plunked himself down next to her, facing the fire. She was facing away from the fire, keeping an eye on the edge of the campsite, so that if Daniel turned his head to look at her from the side he mainly saw her back.

"I guess. Teal'c and I bounced a few ideas off each other this afternoon. Jeez, I'm not really sure how to go about talking to you about this."

"About what, Daniel?"

Daniel bit the bullet and spat out the problem. "Pete."

"Pete?"

"Pete."

"Daniel, you're beginning to sound like the General!"

"And that is the other part of the problem, Sam," continued Daniel, somewhat glad that this was being talked about, but still unsure how his friend would take things. He was somewhat annoyed that Teal'c wasn't here for this and was beginning to suspect that the Jaf'fa had seen it coming, hence his volunteering to return to the MALP and signal home.

"You're turning into the General. I can see how that might be a problem for you, but how does that relate to my fiancé?"

"Sam, the problem is your fiancé and Jack."

Carter narrowed her eyes as she looked out into the growing darkness, the conversation beginning to feel like the one she'd had with Teal'c the night before where he'd shown her some things about her life that she had been ignoring. Was Daniel going to do the same tonight?

"And how are they a problem, Daniel. They've hardly met each other and the General shows no signs of still being angry over the Osiris incident."

Picking up a twig off the ground, Daniel began to idly scrawl Egyptian hieroglyphics as he worked to order his argument. "Jack's attitude isn't the problem, but Pete's and yours is."

"If this is that 'cold shoulder' thing Teal'c talked to me about last night, then I told you, we'll sort it out once we get home. We'll spend a bit more time with the General to show him that we still want him as a friend."

"Sam, Pete doesn't like Jack."

"What the hell gives you that idea, Daniel? And I'm not liking the interest you and Teal'c are displaying in my private life." Sam was off-kilter at Daniel having noticed Pete's dislike for the General.

"The guy already resents the amount of time you spend at work and with Teal'c and I. He obviously feels like he comes lower down your list of priorities than he feels he should."

Sam groaned. "Daniel, you don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh okay. So Pete hasn't asked to you reconsider your career then? Maybe step back from going out on missions with SG-1."

"Er...," attempted Carter.

"That's the first problem, Sam. You already spend a lot of working time and free time with Teal'c and I, leaving Pete in the cold. With your plan to re-establish our friendship with Jack, if you don't sacrifice your work time you're going to end up just taking more time away from Pete."

Sam let her gaze fall to her boots. "Oh." Now she could see what Daniel was getting at. He wasn't attacking her for giving up on the promise of a life with Jack, although she still believed that sometimes he was disappointed with her decision to get a life outside of the SGC. "And the other problem?"

"Pete and Jack. Basically," began Daniel turning his body to be able to see Sam's hanging head, "You appear to spend a lot of your time with Pete talking about Jack. He's jealous, Sam, over the influence Jack seems to have on your life. So imagine things from his point of view. You're planning to give up more time with your fiancé to spend it with a man that Pete is jealous of."

Sam's wince was the only response Daniel got.

"Teal'c and I feel that if you pursue this plan with Jack, you're going to have to adjust your work/home balance or you're headed for a huge dust up with Pete. I know you don't want the pair of us meddling in your private life, Sam, but we both feel that we can't just stand by and watch this happen."

Sam could feel tears leaking out the corners of her eyes. "I thought ...I thought when you started this conversation you were going to tell me to dump Pete."

Daniel looked sharply at the woman seated next to him. "Is that what you want, Sam?"

Pulling the dog tags and accompanying ring away from her neck Sam studied the ring. "I don't know, Daniel."

Michael & Sara Daniels' house, Colorado Springs

1912 hrs

After Jac's crying jag, the younger woman had fallen asleep and Sara had left her slumbering on the sofa in the lounge. Making her way to the kitchen to make preparations for dinner, Sara was left pondering what she had learnt from Jac about her ex-husbands life since their divorce.

Jack was, despite the image he projected, a terribly insecure man. The result of a lifetime of knocks he'd been on the receiving end of since his childhood. When she'd met and married him, she had somewhat naively believed that her love could have cured him of his insecurities. While she felt she had made some progress, Jack beginning to come out of his shell after roughly six years of marriage, it had all been washed away in the grief that had followed Charlie's death.

Now thinking about the woman asleep in the next room, Sara realized that his team at the SGC had been as close as Jack had gotten to another relationship like his marriage to her and with it had begun to heal once more. When his teammates had begun to pull away it was like losing Charlie all over again, Jack's insecurities returning with a vengeance. The gender change was like the killing blow.

Jack O'Neill was gone, leaving behind a young woman who had yet to find the strength within her to pick herself up and carry on. Sara had vowed that afternoon as she prepared dinner; to do all she could over the next three months to help Jac discover her own strength.

Jac hadn't even risen from her slumber when Michael had come home from work at six that evening, meaning introductions had to be postponed. Sara hadn't minded as it allowed her to have a quiet meal with her husband and to reconnect with him before she let him meet Jac.

It was as she and her husband were enjoying a glass of wine after dinner that Sara heard the sounds of Jac in lounge, apparently in the grip of a nightmare. This was something Sara was familiar with, having experienced Jack's return from Iraq after four months as a POW, and waved her husband to stay seated as she walked slowly into the darkened lounge. On the sofa, Jac was moving restlessly in her sleep.

Crouching down by the end of the sofa where Jac's head lay, sweat upon her brow, Sara gently touched the girl's cheek.

"No... please," mumbled Jac.

"Come back to me, Jac. Wake up, Jac." Sara slowly stroked Jac's cheek as she spoke softly.

"Sam?"

"Wake up, Jac," repeated Sara a little more firmly.

With a flutter, Jac's eyes opened and slowly focused on the blonde woman crouching beside her.

"Sara?"

The older woman nodded and worming her way onto the sofa beside Jac, Sara pulled her into a sideways hug so that Jac could lay her head on Sara's shoulder. While Jac just lay there looking out into nothing, letting the horrors of her nightmare fade, Sara turned her head enough to see Michael standing in the doorway between the lounge and the kitchen. She shook her head to indicate she didn't need help and then gave her husband a smile of thanks before he retreated to the kitchen.

"Can you tell me what you were dreaming about, Jac?"

"You remember what it was like when I came back from Iraq?" answered Jac with a question of her own.

Sara nodded. "I remember being so overcome with happiness that you were alive, given the Air Force had told me four months earlier that you were dead. But yes, I remember what you were like on your return."

"About two years ago," began Jac, working up the courage to explain her nightmare, "I was captured by a particularly nasty Goa'uld. They have this device that can bring you back to life if you've been killed recently. This Goa'uld spend days torturing me, worse than anything I ever experienced in Iraq, and there was no escape. If I died he could just bring me back to life with the device."

"Oh God, Jac, how did you survive?"

"I don't think I did," replied Jac in a soft voice.

"Jac?"

"This device strips away a little part of your soul each time you use it and this Goa'uld was using it to bring me back at least twice a day for days on end. Later I figured out I must have been his captive for about three weeks."

Sara pulled the smaller woman tighter to her as if she could press the pain away with just her body heat. "I think I left something of me behind when I escaped," added Jac.

"You never talked to anybody about how you felt through all this did you?"

Jac shook her head. "Danny had just up and died again a couple of months earlier. People still weren't dealing with that very well."

"Died again?"

"Yeah," giggled Jac. "Ol' Spacemonkey has some strange habits, holds the base record for number of deaths and resurrections."

"You always had a strange sense of humor, Jac."

"Have too," sighed Jac. "Or I'd go mad trying to deal with what I've seen in my life. Anyway, Teal'c was having difficulty with the whole 'accepting the snake' thing and Sam was busy blaming herself for what happened since she figured she was the one who had convinced me to go ahead with the snake thing. I didn't have anybody to turn to and talk about it even if I had wanted to."

She may not have understood all that Jac had just spoken about, but Sara felt that it was a good start that the younger woman _could _talk about it. "Well, you've got me _and _Doctor Brightman to talk to now. I hope that you'll take advantage of that Jac. Please don't bottle this stuff up as I don't like the idea of coming home and finding you lying dead in the bathtub with slit wrists."

Jac shuddered in Sara's embrace. "God no, Sara, I would never do that to you and Michael. Never. Never."

"Well," exclaimed Sara with some exaggerated lightness, "With that hurdle cleared do you feel up to some dinner. I let you sleep through it, so Michael and I have already eaten. I figured you needed the rest."

"Thank you," whispered Jac with sincerity. "Do lead me to the food. And do I get to eyeball Michael? After all I've got to see this better model that you've managed to trade up to."

The two shared a laugh, but Sara had heard the put down that Jac had heaped on herself in the process of making the joke. As the pair got up and walked toward the kitchen door Sara gave a little prayer that Jac might know some peace and happiness in her life.

SGC

October 4th, 2004

2013 hrs

Sam stared at her computer screen but didn't see it. When SG-1 had returned from P7X-135, they had been all set to invite the General to her place for the following evening for food and films. That plan had crashed and burned when they had seen General Hammond standing behind the safety glass of the control room instead of O'Neill. After cleaning up, the team had met in the briefing room, wondering what was going on.

That was when Hammond had entered and broke the news that O'Neill had been transferred to the Pentagon some three days earlier with no set date for a return to the SGC. Hammond had even talked in terms of General O'Neill never returning and a new General placed in charge of the SGC. Sam could remember all three members of SG-1 turning to look at each other after the announcement, the same thought visible in each other's eyes. They'd been too late in fixing their mistake. The General was gone and had left believing them no longer friends.

What hadn't helped in this situation had been all the doubt that Daniel, and Teal'c by extension, by not stopping Daniel at any stage, had heaped upon her relationship with Pete as they had gone on with their mission on P7X-135 after her confession that she hadn't known what she wanted.

He'd brought up things and events that had cast a decidedly different light on Pete and how she'd approached getting a life outside of the SGC. He'd been relentless, questioning her why she had suddenly changed direction in her life. That has led back to the hallucinations on the _Prometheus_. Teal'c had chipped in at that point with O'Neill's reaction to her situation and then Daniel had tag teamed her by pulling apart her interpretation of what the hallucinations had been trying to tell her.

Then somehow, Daniel had gotten out of her how she'd told the General about Pete's proposal and had questioned her motives for talking to him about it before accepting or declining. Why had she talked to him? What had she wanted him to say?

It hadn't helped that now that they were back at the SGC, after essentially not talking about anything else other than O'Neill or her relationship (or lack of one) with Pete for three days, the General was just as far out of reach as he had been when they were off-world. Hammond, allowing them no time to slip in a trip to the Pentagon in order to track down O'Neill, had crammed SG-1's schedule.

Pete had left numerous messages on her answering machine, something she had discovered upon returning home the night before. She hadn't phoned him back, telling herself that it was too late in the evening to be calling and that she could leave it until tomorrow. Tomorrow had come and was now almost gone. Sam found she was still reluctant to make the call, to talk to her fiancé and share conversation when the General was missing from her life.

As she sat in front of the computer, she kept half expecting him to come through the doorway with some silly plan to get her out of her lab, either to eat something or to go home and sleep. To live the life he had told her to go out and get. Yet she was still here, as if magically tied to her seat, unable or perhaps unwilling to go home to her life outside the SGC. Life, she pondered. Did she really have a life if O'Neill wasn't around to share it?

SG-1 was due to ship out for a five-day mission to P1X-078 tomorrow. Sighing Sam slipped out of her seat and went in search of her on base quarters. Since she couldn't concentrate enough to do any work and she didn't want to go home and potentially end up fielding phone calls from Pete, she figured she might as well get some sleep before the mission.

Not that it was going to be a restful night with all these thoughts about Jack filling her head.

October 10th, 2004

0734 hrs

It was as quiet as a tomb, reflected Daniel Jackson as he looked down at the breakfast on the tray in front of himself. As if by leaving the SGC, Jack had taken all the light and laughter with him. SG-1 had gotten back from '078 late the previous evening and all three had simple crashed in their respective quarters, too tired to do anything but sleep. They had the debriefing scheduled for 0800 this morning, which was why Daniel was trying to feed himself some breakfast.

He played with the porridge a bit, reflecting that it was unfair that Jack wasn't sitting opposite him regaling the commissary with the wonders of Froot Loops. Not that his friend had done that in the last few months given the fact that SG-1 had pushed their friend and ex-CO to the periphery of their social group, making him into some sort of pariah. And now, he was gone.

In his imagination Daniel pictured Jack tied down to a bigger desk with more paperwork to do than was humanly possible. But since going to P1X-078 after learning Jack was gone, his dreams sometimes had Jack doing an undercover mission, like he'd done with the NID, and he was now somewhere alone and hurt. He'd disturbed his teammates when he'd woken from his sleep screaming Jack's name.

He could tell that Sam and Teal'c weren't dealing with Jack's absence as well as they were trying to convince everybody they were. Teal'c had almost become as highly strung as Jack had been; nervously twitching at various things or words that Daniel guessed reminded the Jaf'fa of Jack. Sam looked okay when she knew you were watching, but when she thought she was alone it was a different picture.

Daniel cursed himself for his laying into her about her relationship with Pete while they had been on P7X-135, tearing down the one possible safe haven she currently had outside of SG-1. He knew that Sam was avoiding Pete, troubled by how unsure her seemingly concrete relationship with the cop now looked. She hadn't left the base, except for missions, since they had learned Jack had been transferred to the Pentagon.

SG-1 had fallen into a funk with Jack gone, and it seemed to Daniel that the rest of the base also missed his presence. Things were subdued and jokes and laughter seemed lighter than usual. Even though Hammond was essentially back in charge, something that should have been a bright spot for the base, it only served to remind people that Jack wasn't there playing with his yo-yo as teams came and went through the gate. Plus, Hammond had reminded people that he was a temporary solution till a new base commander could be chosen.

Daniel looked at his watch. Obviously, Teal'c and Sam weren't going to join him for breakfast, but if he talked fast and skillfully enough he figured he could get the three of them to eat lunch together. Being unhappy by himself sucked, but being unhappy in a group might just be tolerable. As for now, the only way to lift the cloud that SG-1, and the base as a whole, were under was for a line of communication to be re-established with Jack once more.

Eating his way through his breakfast as quickly as he could Daniel Jackson went in search of his notes for the debriefing.

October 14th, 2004

1457 hrs

Teal'c looked at the clock once more and remained seated. Neither DanielJackson nor ColonelCarter had made an appearance in the briefing room and the post-mission meeting was due to begin in three minutes. The tardiness of the archaeologist was something that Teal'c accepted given how often it had happened over the last seven plus years. For the Colonel to be running so close to being late was a different matter altogether.

The mission to P9X-574 had been a standard three-day 'meet and greet' with friendly natives, pleasant weather, and no Goa'uld to disturb the peace. Hence, Teal'c figured it went down as the most painful SG-1 mission he had ever participated in. ColonelCarter had not smiled since they had learnt of O'Neill's transfer to the Pentagon, becoming steadily more upset and irritable with the two other members of her team, and almost going as far as coming to blows with GeneralHammond over something trivial at the pre-mission briefing held two days earlier.

Teal'c had observed that DanielJackson had made repeated attempts to apologize to ColonelCarter over his interference, however factually true and warranted it was in Teal'c own opinion, in her personal life with PeteShanahan. The Colonel had rebuffed all his efforts and had taken to speaking to him in short, clipped sentences. The younger man was now just as morose at their CO and clearly at a loss for how to fix the situation. He had confided in Teal'c that perhaps ColonelCarter was living in denial, unable to sort things out with Jack due to the General's transfer and currently unwilling to break things off with the police officer in fear that her relationship with the man was her last chance at a 'normal' life outside the SGC.

Teal'c had approached GeneralHammond the night before about his concerns for his two teammates, indicating that SG-1 had issues with O'Neill that needed resolving if they were going to function once more at their peak ability. Hammond however had said that O'Neill was currently unavailable and would remain so for quite some time. He had also added that SG-1 wouldn't have the time to meet the man anyway due to a mission to P6X-994 that the team was due to undertake on the 16th.

For himself Teal'c knew that a warrior went wherever a warrior was needed, and for O'Neill it seemed that his current battlefront was to be the Pentagon. The Jaf'fa was upset that his 'brother in arms' was no longer serving beside him at the SGC, but knew that it was beyond his ability to restore things to how they had been prior to P5X-878. What bothered him the most was that he had been denied the chance to apologize to O'Neill and gain the man's forgiveness for the offense of ignoring him.

As he looked across the table at GeneralHammond, the former First Prime wondered how the older man was taking the changes that had occurred.

October 18th, 2004

1028 hrs

Hammond sighed as he flicked through Doctor Brightman's weekly report on the mental and physical state of one Captain Jacqueline O'Neill. As expected, the young woman had made a complete physical recovery from her alteration and had maintained a fitness routine that would see her easily pass the required physical tests to join an SG team when she underwent them next month.

It was the hand-written page from Sara Daniels he was more interested in. Jac had been suffering from frequent nightmares as the trauma of her gender change began dragging up things from her life that she had tried to suppress. Her torture in Iraq. The photos that had been a part of Jack's sealed file told more about those four months than the hollow and clinical words of any report ever could. The various dirty Black Ops missions she'd carried out under order, forming a long list of subversions, assassinations, executions, and other dark deeds. The web of lies she'd been caught in as a part of having to forge a new identity as Jacqueline O'Neill.

The practical things, Sara noted, like clothing and hygiene were aspects of being female that the neo-woman had picked up quickly and easily. The effect of female hormones and brain were confusing and scaring Jack. The young woman would often do something or say something in a uniquely feminine way, only to suddenly lock up when she realized what she'd just done or said. It took some coaxing to bring Jac back out of her shell after each 'episode'.

What Sara did worry about was Jac's monthly cycle, both her and Brightman agreeing that the young woman would probably experience her first one some time before the end of the month. The married woman was concerned what effect PMS would have on someone who had never experienced it before and had not had a lifetime of growing up female and expecting it to happen to cushion the effects. Brightman was scheduled to drop by the Daniels' household next week to 'fill in the details' for Jac.

Jac's ex-wife did note, with some relief, that an expected clash between her new husband and her now changed former one had not eventuated. Instead, Michael had treated Jac as a younger sister, going out of his way to make the woman feel at home. Jack had been an only child and while SG-1 had had a family atmosphere, he'd always been the 'older brother' to Daniel. He had never experienced being a younger child and seemingly had taken a liking to it. Sara noted wryly that it helped that both were keen for hockey. It seemed that a love of hockey could solve almost any problem.

Hammond allowed himself a brief smile at that and could almost picture Jac going off world with armfuls of hockey gear in order to evangelize the natives and bring peace and harmony to the universe. Closing the file, he slipped it into his briefcase and locked it. Today was his last day on site at the SGC, a replacement for the position of CO had been found. He would still receive the weekly reports from Brightman and Sara, but he'd now have to monitor things from the Pentagon.

At that moment, there was a knock at the office door and, after permission was given, a SF let the new CO of the SGC, one General Hank Landry, enter the room. Hammond stretched out to the offered hand and shook it, welcoming the man to the SGC.

Michael & Sara Daniels' house, Colorado Springs

October 25th, 2004

1141 hrs

She'd known about it. Hell, she'd lived with Sara for almost a decade and watched her go through it once a month. Dr. Brightman had been by three days earlier to go through it all in detail, possibly too much detail, and had explained that both she and Sara were unsure how it was going to affect her the first time since she had had no real build up to the event.

When she had woken this morning to the sight of blood on her thighs she'd initially been catatonic, frozen in the process of getting out of bed. If there was nothing else that was going to convince herself that she was now one hundred percent female, it was her first period. Somehow, that realization hurt even more than the pain she had felt when Sara and she visited Charlie's gravesite only days earlier. Luckily, for her own sense of pride Sara's husband had already left for work by the time she had woken, meaning that there had been no chance that someone other than Sara was going to stumble across her in her state of distress.

The older woman had maneuvered her into the shower after getting her to swallow some pills. She had shaken her fugue state while standing under the streaming hot water of the shower and had eventually managed to clean herself up. Exiting the shower she found that Sara had, at some point, slipped into the bathroom and deposited a pile of clean clothes. Given a choice of ways to deal with her new biology, Jac had opted for pads. She found the idea of a tampon far too disturbing to consider for now.

Dressed, and the edge of her headache taken away by the pills, Jac made her way gingerly downstairs and into the kitchen where Sara pressed a cup of hot coffee into her hands. The pair of women sat down at the breakfast table and looked out over the back lawn.

"How are you feeling, Jac?" asked Sara sympathetically. She could laugh her head off later when she sure Jac wasn't around to hear her.

"Okay for now, Sara," replied the woman in question, her voice carrying a slight tremor with it. "I feel so fragile at the moment, like I'm going to fall apart and all it would take is a funny look from someone."

"Well, Doctor Brightman and I both figured that your first would probably be the worst, and as time goes on you get used to your cycle some parts will become more manageable. I'm guessing that the feeling fragile part will probably one of those things that will pass."

Jac took a sip of her coffee and offered in a tiny voice, "It made me realize just how 'real' this situation is and how female I really am."

Sara nodded, not speaking for fear of Jac clamming up.

"I mean...it shows that I really could carry a baby inside me."

"Is that something you want, Jac?"

The dark-haired woman rubbed her forehead with her free hand, her headache not completely gone. At least it wasn't competing for a 'greatest agony award' with those pains that were coming from her abdomen. "I don't know. I mean, isn't it something that all women want at some point in their life."

"I think you can safely say that most women at some point either have, or wish they had, a child. It's a part of being a woman. Jac, up till less than a month ago you were a man and had been all your life. Women have an entire childhood to get used to the idea that they can have a baby if they choose to do so. So, I don't expect it to be something that you've given a lot of thought to, or at this stage even want."

Jac cast her dark eyes over to Sara, who returned her gaze levelly. "Have you ever thought of having a child with Michael?"

Sara slipped out of her chair and disappeared into another room leaving Jac thinking she'd somehow hurt the older woman. Then Sara was back, placing a small white stick on the breakfast table between them.

"Blue," was all Jac could say.

Sara nodded with a small smile. "We've been trying for a while and I was beginning to think I'd left it too late to have another child."

"How long?" asked Jac not taking her eyes off the stick.

"About six weeks."

The table fell silent as they finished their coffees. "Had you ever thought about having another child, Jac, before what happened?"

Jac dipped her head, eyes seeing only the bottom of the empty cup and dregs of coffee that remained. "Sometimes...sometimes I could just about picture myself with a family. Usually with Sam as the mother." Here Jac tried to suppress a small sob of grief. "But as time went by, and the possibility that she felt the same way about me lessened, the more that it seemed like a pipe dream. Eventually I guess I gave up on the idea."

She wiped the tears that were in her eyes away with the back of her hand.

"But now that you're young and a woman you've thought about the idea?" Sara prompted.

"Only in a sort of abstract way, Sara, and only after Brightman brought it up at the briefing. It certainly never seemed like it was really possible till this morning. Anyway, it's all a moot point for now as I can't wrap my head around the idea of falling in love with a man, let alone doing what is necessary to start a family."

Sara failed to suppress a slight giggle at the thought, which gave rise to Jac half- laughing, half-sobbing at her predicament. Sara moved from her seat and hugged the smaller woman as the sobs overtook the laughs and the neo-woman began grieving for the possibility that she would never have a family again.

After a while, Sara looked up at the clock in the kitchen and gently rubbed Jac's back. "After that I think we need to get out of the house. How about I take you out to lunch."

"Lunch?"

Sara's bright blue eyes laughingly caught Jac's. "I'm sure that I can find something at the mall to distract you with for a few hours. But we both need food first."

"You know me too well, Sara. Food it is then!"

Fifteen minutes later the two women were strapped into the seats of Sara's SUV and headed in the direction of the mall. Sara didn't work and Jac had been ordered to spend three months down time adjusting to her new gender, hence the pair were able to enjoy the mall on a Monday without the usual weekend crowds.

Jac was surprised at just how fast the time was going, with three weeks since her return from P5X-878 having passed already. As she sat in the passenger seat, she pondered what she had done with her time. Much of it had been taken up with Sara's patient tutoring of her through the basics of being a woman, from things like wearing underwear to how her body reacted differently to stimuli. Jac had noticed how far more sensitive her skin seemed now, how things tasted different.

The whole trying out foods to see how they differed had been fun, but the picking correct underwear had been hugely embarrassing for the neo-woman. It has forced her to be up close and personal with her body in a way that she had till that point avoided, even going as far as not looking at herself when showering. Since then she had accepted her outward appearance as being something she couldn't change (for the foreseeable future at least anyway) and had gained some measure of comfort at being in her skin after that.

Other days had been filled with helping Sara keep the household running with its needs, demonstrating to Jac that there was more to running a home than she had thought there was to it. Her years alone after the divorce had seen her caring for only her needs, but here her eyes were opened to the burdens of dealing with the requirements of three people and the preparations for a baby. Jac had even gone as far as remarking that she had a new appreciation for what Sara had gone through as her wife, especially during the times that Jac had been away on missions. Sara had laughed off the comment, but Jac could tell that her sincere thanks for what Sara had done for her and Charlie had brought some measure of peace and happiness to the older woman.

Also, time had been taken with shopping for an entire wardrobe for Jac. She had left the SGC with only what Brightman had managed to cobble together at the last moment. Once home, Sara had taken one look at the ill fitting and mismatched clothes and had dragged Jac to the nearest clothing store.

Jac could now boast, and here she wasn't sure if she wanted to, enough items of clothing to make at least two dozen different outfits. She wasn't sure if she'd ever get round to trying them all out, given that when it was a 'stay at home all day' day she tended to gravitate to sweat pants and top.

Her evenings had been filled with either watching television or connecting with Sara and Michael on a friends level, or with pouring through various scientific textbooks to brush up on her knowledge. Something that needed doing if Hammond thought that she was going to pull off being SG-5's military scientist.

Five days into her stay at Sara and Michael's Hammond had phoned, explaining that Jac's old house was to be packed up, to maintain the illusion that General O'Neill had moved to Washington, and that she should spend time sorting out what she wanted to retain for her new life. One of those things had been her telescope, another activity that had taken up her evenings when watching television proved insufficient stimulation. Her house had been left in her new name, but rented out to provide her with some additional income, as Captain O'Neill didn't join the Air Force payroll officially until the beginning of December.

Other occasions Sara had taken Jac out to public places to sit and talk, or to just watch people. Sara had reasoned that she needed to feel comfortable out in public view in her new body or she would end up forever hiding at home or under the mountain.

Now as the mall came into sight, Jac couldn't help but smile. Her life may have been screwed up by the gender change, but for the first time in a long time, she felt less burdened. All she needed now were friends. That line of thinking caused her face to cloud as she was reminded of the people she thought of as friends that she had left behind. She would never be able to interact with Daniel, Teal'c and Sam in the same way she had as Jack O'Neill. If she did ever meet with them again at the SGC or outside of the mountain, they would only ever see Captain Jacqueline O'Neill, a young woman who had no shared experiences with them with which to forge ties.

The SUV came to a halt in a parking spot and Sara turned to take in Jac's watery eyes.

SGC

1236 hrs

A somewhat shocked SG-1 stood on the embarkation ramp of the gate room, having just returned from P6X-994. For the second time in the space of a month, an Air Force General other than the one they expected stood behind the glass wall of the control room.

"Welcome back, SG-1," commented General Landry to the stunned SG team. "Hit the showers, debriefing is at 1330."

The team nodded, somewhat in confusion, and began making their way out of the gate room. Landry turned to Harriman who was watching the gate cool after SG-1's arrival and asked, "Have we heard from SG-5 yet?"

"No, Sir."

Harriman punched in a line of code and ran a diagnostic of the gate. "How long have they been overdue?"

Working through the streams of text now spilling across his monitor, Harriman identified SG-5 among the list of off world teams. "They have been on P5X-878 for twenty-one days, Sir, with SG-22 coming back two weeks ago, which makes them seven days overdue."

"Nothing on the MALP?"

"No, Sir. We've received telemetry from the MALP each time we've dialed the gate. SG-5 have not responded."

Landry's shoulders dropped. He had his orders regarding '878. He didn't understand them, but knew he probably wasn't going to be told the reasons why.

"Lock it out."

"Sir?"

Landry looked down sadly at Harriman in his chair. "Lock P5X-878 out of the dialing computer. It is a no-go from now on."

Looking questioningly at Landry, Harriman set about running the routine to remove '878 from the list of gates that could be dialed. "I have my orders, son, and you have yours."

With that, Landry left the control room.

xxx

His first debriefing with SG-1 had been somewhat subdued as the three came to grips with another change in CO. Landry figured he'd scored some points of favor with them by mentioning that he was an old friend of their ex-CO O'Neill. The team had left quietly after the end of the debriefing, seven days of downtime ahead of them after visiting three different planets without a break.

Now he was in his office, which still didn't quite feel like his yet, wondering what to do with the mess that was the missing SG-5. A knock at his office door roused him from his meditation on the papers in front of him. He hadn't really made any progress and could do with a distraction. "Come in," he called.

He was surprised to Lt. Colonel Carter enter the office, looking somewhat unsure of herself.

"Welcome, Colonel. How can I help you?"

"I was wondering, after hearing you mention you knew General O'Neill, if you've heard from him lately. We were off-world when he was transferred almost a month ago and we have yet to hear from him or be able to make contact. You wouldn't be able to help us would you?"

"Us?"

"SG-1, Sir. General O'Neill was our team leader for seven years and we're feeling the loss of his presence."

"I'm sorry, Colonel, but I haven't heard a word about O'Neill other than the fact that the President and Joint Chiefs had a hand in his transfer. I wish I could tell you more but I'm as in the dark as you are as to what is going on."

Carter didn't look too happy about the lack of information, but Landry could tell it wasn't himself she was unhappy with.

"I understand, Sir. Thank you anyway."

Landry stood and came out from behind his desk, throwing the papers he had been looking at on his desk. "You're welcome, Carter. If I get word of how to get in touch with Jack I'll let your team know straight away."

The woman's head bobbed in thanks. She cast a glance at the paper-covered desk and nodded with her chin. "Paperwork, Sir?"

Landry turned back to look at the pile and sighed, "Yes, Colonel. I've been here a week and I'm already drowning in the stuff. Busy sorting out the mess that was SG-5."

"SG-5, Sir, Major Hallan's team?"

Wandering back to the desk Landry gestured to the sheets. "We lost the entire team off- world a week ago, which, and I know this sounds somewhat callous, has caused no end of problems since we were going to rearrange the team at Christmas."

"Sir?"

Landry dropped back into his seat and indicated that Sam should sit down. "According to the notes that George left me, Layton and James were going to form a new SG team and train up some of the new recruits. Layton was going to be replaced by a Jacqueline O'Neill." He stressed the named, knowing that the woman was a friend of Jack's.

"O'Neill, Sir?" Carter asked, curious at the coincidence of the name.

The General fished out a file and passed it over to the leader of the flagship team. "She's Jack's niece apparently, named after her uncle. She is due here at the SGC at the start of the New Year; and was to be the military scientist on SG-5."

"Didn't even know he had a niece," muttered the Colonel. Sam flicked through the pages of the file, a growing look of astonishment on her face. "It says here she has a PhD in Quantum Mechanics, as well as degrees in Mathematics and Physics."

Landry nodded. "Not only that, but she's extremely knowledgeable about astronomy and can speak at least a dozen languages. Now that SG-5 is completely gone I've been trying to work out where to place her."

"Air Force?"

"Twenty-four years old and holds the rank of Captain. She has already been cleared and briefed about the SGC and only has to pass the physical to join a team. I've been told that she'll clear that no problem."

"SG-1, Sir."

"Pardon, Colonel?" asked Landry, genuinely confused.

"I'd like her on SG-1 as my second in command, Sir." Carter gave her CO her brightest smile, blue eyes twinkling.

"Any particular reason, Carter?" The General had his interest piqued by the Colonel's request, especially given that SG-1 had been operating, somewhat unusually, as a team of three.

"She's got some all-around skills, Sir, and I think she would stand to learn a lot about how those respective areas are used in the field from working along side Daniel Jackson and myself."

The General chuckled. "And it has nothing with her being Jack's niece?"

"Well, I will admit, Sir, that the idea of having an O'Neill on the team once more is appealing," replied Carter with a small grin.

xxx

A little later Sam wandered into Daniel's office; a file tucked under one arm, and clutching two coffees. With her foot, she knocked on the door to let the archaeologist know that someone was there. "Daniel?"

The young man pulled his head out of a pile of books he had been rummaging through at the darkened back corner of his office. "Hey, Sam, did Landry have anything to tell you about Jack?"

Passing Daniel one of the coffees Carter found a seat and sat down, placing the file under her arm into her lap. She shook her head, wisps of blonde hair flying. "He had no more idea of where Jack currently is than we do I'm afraid."

"It's been over three weeks, Sam," cried Daniel in exasperation. "I'm beginning to think that this is all some sort of cosmic joke and that we've lost our chance to set things straight with Jack. Especially since Hammond scheduled us to be off-world when we had decided to try and talk to Jack when he visited Charlie's grave."

"Why do you say that?"

"Think about it, Sam! If he was going to be doing something with respect to the SGC, or he'd been tied down to a desk job we would have heard about it by now."

"So...you think they've got him doing something along the lines of that NID sting he did years ago?"

Daniel slumped onto a chair of his own and sighed. "Yeah, more than likely, after all, that's what he spent a lot of his time in the Air Force doing wasn't it? Black Ops and all that."

Sam shrugged. "I can't really say, Daniel, I've never had high enough clearance to read his _complete _file. Even Hammond told me once that _he _didn't have that kind of clearance either."

Sipping his coffee Daniel added dejectedly, "So we can assume that he's probably off doing something particularly ugly, dangerous, and suicidal then."

"Possibly," admitted Sam, not liking the idea of never being able to set things straight with a man that she had certain feelings for. Despite how she'd been forced to rethink her personal life, including her relationships with Pete and Jack, Sam was now beginning to fear that the choice had already been made for her. All she had to look forward to in the future was either marriage to Pete or remaining unmarried and becoming a spinster.

Trying to get out her funk Sam waved the file she had at Daniel. "Guess what?"

"What?" replied Daniel, playing along with the Colonel's game even though he was feeling somewhat unhappy over Jack's disappearance.

"SG-1 is going to get a new team member!"

Daniel pushed his glasses back up his nose. "Really? Why?"

"I asked for her," grinned Sam, wanting to spin out the surprise.

"Her? What is so special about her that you thought SG-1 needed a new member?"

"You mean, apart from a PhD and two other degrees, extensive knowledge of astronomy and at least a dozen languages?" Sam's grin, if possible, had become even bigger.

Realizing that Sam had been teasing and grateful for her trying to lighten the mood he fired back, "Yeah, apart from those things. What makes her special? She's not Air Force is she, 'cause despite what you think I don't consider that belonging to the USAF makes somebody special?"

"Well she is Air Force, but that's not what is so special about her."

"Well?"

Sam handed over the file to Daniel who quickly opened it and began reading. "Captain Jacqueline O'Neill?" squeaked Daniel. "Who?"

"She's the General's niece," began Sam, "She was supposed to be on SG-5, but with all them missing Landry needed to put her somewhere. I convinced him that SG-1 would always welcome having an O'Neill on the team."

"But, Sam, Landry can't be right!"

"Pardon?" Sam couldn't figure what her friend was objecting to, as she was sure he would have been as excited as she was.

"When we went to Abydos the first time I managed to get Jack talking about his life. I guess he figured since it was a suicide mission and he was going to die that he could tell people stuff about himself he normally wouldn't have as they would never be able to use it against him."

"And?"

"We talked about our families. I told him about my life as an orphan after my parents died. He told me about how he never knew his parents, being raised by a foster family. He never had any siblings, Sam. He grew up an only child!"

"But this woman is his niece, even Landry confirmed that."

"I'm just telling you what Jack told me on Abydos."

Sam pondered the problem for a moment. "Perhaps Jack just told you that to make you feel better and that he did in fact have brothers or sisters."

"Other than the NID debacle, have you ever know Jack to outright lie to any one of us on SG-1?"

"I guess. Anyway, she'll be on base some time next month for her physical with Brightman. We could corner her as part of introducing ourselves to her and pump her for information on Jack's family."

"I don't know, Sam, wouldn't that possibly scare her away from wanting to work with SG-1? I'll accept for now that people believe that she is Jack's niece. We'll just have to wait and see what the truth is."

ADDITIONAL THANKS: To the minor beta reader of this chapter, Christy Newman


	3. The Ghost of Jack O'Neill

THANKS: A big thank you to Karen Joy who worked hard as my Beta on this chapter.

**THREE: The Ghost of Jack O'Neill **

Colorado Springs mall

October 25th, 2004

1523 hrs

Sara had moved the teary Jac into a small cafe inside the mall and plied her with a very good cup of coffee. If she hadn't already been on the verge of crying, Jac laughingly told herself that the coffee would have moved her to tears. Over the coffee and between suppressed sobs, Jac haltingly explained what had brought on her sudden mood swing in the SUV.

She had not only lost her identity as Jack O'Neill, but with it all her personal ties. SG-1, who had for the last few years become his only friends, and Cassandra Fraiser, who was like a surrogate daughter for Jack. Jacqueline O'Neill had neither of these supports. Jac considered herself lousy at making and keeping her friends, having been badly burned so many times in the past, and had begun to worry that she would struggle to have friends again.

That she would have to interact with her old friends as if they were strangers was an added blow to the distance that had already been growing between them. Something she had felt keenly. Having already lost one child to a gun, Jac was not keen on loosing a second, this time Cassie, to her sudden gender change. It would be like grieving for Charlie all over again and she wasn't sure if she was strong enough to survive a second time through the wringer.

Sara was struggling to help relieve Jac of her burden. She was beginning to wonder if perhaps Hammond and Brightman were unaware of just how broken Jack O'Neill had been, on the inside. He had always been good at hiding it and it had taken her all her marriage to finally spot the gaps in his armour and see the real Jack hiding inside. The phone call she'd received from Hammond that morning was only going to make Jac's situation more pitiable and was something that she needed to know now rather than learn about it when she returned to the SGC.

Having finished their coffees Sara took the younger woman for a walk around the mall, letting the mass of people distract Jac from her current line of thought. After half an hour of a slowly growing, comfortable silence, Sara led Jac to a seat outside the mall and sat her down. This was going to be hard she realised, playing with her hands.

"What's wrong, Sara?" asked Jac.

Sara looked up surprised and Jac gestured to the married woman's hands. "You're playing with your hands. I may not be that good at the whole relationship thing, but that always was a red flag to me."

"General Hammond phoned this morning, while you were in the shower."

Jac went rigid. "What did he have to tell you?"

"That not only did SG-5 not find anything of help for you off-world, but that they appear to have gone missing. They're seven days overdue and a rescue team found no trace of them." Sara paused. "Jac, they locked the planet this happened to you on out of their computer. You won't ever get the chance to go back there as they're worried what might happen to you or others if you do."

"It's not like Hammond to give up so quickly," argued Jac.

"He's back at the Pentagon, Jac. They've already appointed your replacement and he got orders from above to lock the planet out. I'm sorry."

Jac turned her face away from Sara and looked down at her hands. "But that means that only person on the entire base who'll know who I really am is Doctor Brightman. At least with the idea of going off world with SG-5, I could picture myself relaxing somewhat. But now? You're not going to leave either are you, Sara?"

Jac's voice had taken on a pleading tone and Sara was loath to add rather than take away from the young woman's mountain of burdens. "No, but Michael has applied for several better paying jobs in Boston. If he gets one we'll be moving out before Christmas."

This was to be her life.

It was all gone, Jac thought. Like sand it just keep slipping through her fingers and each time she tried to grab harder to what she had left the more it slid away from her. Her gender, her job, her friends, her surrogate daughter, her support.

'Damn this body', cried Jac in her mind as she felt the onset of another bout of crying overcoming her. She felt Sara enfold her in her arms as they sat in the slightly chilly November air and relaxed slightly. When Sara remarked that 'she would remain Jac's friend and would talk to her by phone whenever she was needed', it served only to remind Jac of what she was losing and was like throwing fuel onto a fire in terms of her tears.

Michael & Sara Daniels' house, Colorado Springs

October 28th, 2004

1956 hrs

Three days later Michael had returned home with the news that Jac had been dreading. He'd won a better paying position with a firm in Boston who would be supplying the expectant couple with a house till they could find a property of their own. With the movers due to arrive in the first week of November while Jac was at the SGC undergoing her physical tests, the young woman knew that tomorrow would be spent helping Sara beginning the process of boxing up the house for the transfer.

As she watched from the stairs as the happy couple talked in the hall about this new chapter in their lives, all Jac could feel was the hollowness of her own existence. Jack O'Neill had been 'walking wounded' for a long time, shuffling zombie-like through his life, but at least he'd been alive at some point in time. This was more than could be said for Jacqueline O'Neill, a paper phantom who was less substantial than the ghost of the dead Jack O'Neill that seemed to cast a shadow over her future.

She couldn't reclaim what she had lost after P5X-878, it seemed that her future would be as empty as Jack's had been. Everything was now in limbo due to Sara's impending departure and the loss of SG-5. She was a paper soldier without a life or a team. Was she going to be carried wherever the wind blew her, constantly floating on a breeze of orders till she grew old and useless once more? Could she face another sixty-plus years of being alone with nothing to show for her life?

Jac retreated back to her room. She had only been there four weeks, but she had already begun calling it 'her' room due to the sense of family that Michael and Sara had provided for her. Now that stability was going. She had only one more month to enjoy being part of a family before she had to move back into her huge, empty house as Sara had already given the tenants there notice. She was too young to rattle around that old house by herself, yet she was too old to really change her ways and patterns of life.

Laying her head down on her pillow Jac surveyed the head-on car crash that was her life and came to the conclusion that perhaps this was just karma for the ugly, dark things she had done in her life. That perhaps she didn't deserve a life and that the best she could expect was to be a soldier till she died, forever trying to work off the guilt for all the lives she had cut short.

Jac mentally kicked herself, as Sara would have verbally done had she been in the room to see the woman's distress. Here she was with a second chance at life and she was mourning for her old one. How mad was that? How so terribly like Jack O'Neill to sink into her guilt and pain rather than finding a way to turn events into something positive. Jack O'Neill was dead and if she was ever going to move on then she was going to have to shed his ghost as well.

Closing her eyes Jac did what she had always done when the government had come to her with a new life to live. She tried to visualise in her mind her old life and picture her new self-walking away. In the past it had usually been very easy, as having never spent very long in an identity she never made the ties with people that would hold her back. But living as Jack O'Neill had gone on for well over a decade and the life she imagined herself now walking away from was one with so many emotional ties that she found it extremely difficult.

Sleep tugged at her tired and frayed mind and despite the early hour Jac found herself falling asleep on her bed.

SGC

2007 hrs

"You wanted to speak to me?" called a voice across the lab.

Samantha Carter almost jumped in her seat where she was playing with a small metal object that had been recovered from P8X-345. It was a piece of Ancient technology and because of that, Sam had found herself desperately wishing that Jack O'Neill was there with her. While the object being of Ancient origin had been enough to trigger thoughts of Jack, she hadn't wanted him there because of it. She found she just wanted him to be there playing with the 'doohickey' because those moments of just the two of them she now found were like precious memories to her.

Turning Sam caught the speaker leaning against the doorway.

"Agent Barrett. Thank you for coming. I didn't hear you arrive as I was busy..." Sam waved a hand over her workbench and the object from P8X-345.

"It's always good to see you again, Colonel Carter. How are things with you and Pete?"

Daniel and Teal'c had managed not to ask the million-dollar question since their departure for P1X-078; Sam convinced her response to their last attempt had been enough to cow them into refraining for a little while longer. Landry didn't know about Pete, Siler and Harriman never talked to her about her personal life anyway, and the rest of the staff it seemed were still in too much of an awe of her 'brain' to even summon the spit to ask. Yet here was Malcolm Barrett, blithely asking away a question which she had been studiously avoiding asking even herself.

She had stonewalled Pete since SG-1's return from P7X-135, and tomorrow had to face the consequences. Her first day of a seven-day break and Pete was going to show up on her doorstep to 'put the zing back into their engagement' lest she change her mind before he got her to the altar. That she was even thinking like this was like a large neon sign to Carter that all was not well in her relationship with Pete.

"Not so good," she admitted and found it was like a weight from her shoulders. Perhaps she should have admitted that aloud a long time ago, but at least she had finally said it.

"Oh," remarked Barrett who had clearly not expected such a personal and forthright answer from her. "Well, I'm sorry to hear that. Do I still keep my schedule clear for an April wedding?"

Sam froze. While she had understood that she had said 'yes' to Pete's proposal she hadn't really though through the whole scenario despite her fiancé continuing to make plans for a wedding without her help. She looked at the bland floor of the lab. "At this stage Malcolm, I wouldn't even count on the engagement lasting till Christmas."

"Ah," he said as if he understood her predicament. "Well, how about we talk about what you called me down here for instead, hey?"

Nodding she gestured for the man to take a seat.

"So?"

"So I take it you've heard about General O'Neill being transferred away from the SGC?"

Malcolm nodded.

"The problem is no one seems to know where he was transferred to, who he is working with, or even what he is doing. More importantly, we want to get in touch with him, but because no one can answer our questions, we've had no luck so far. Daniel suggested that he might have been seconded to something a bit more hush-hush than even the SGC."

"And you were hoping that I might know more since that is the sort of field I tend to operate in?" finished Barrett for her.

"Yes," huffed Sam.

The agent pulled a small device out of his pocket and set it down on Sam's lab desk. He pressed one of the buttons on the device and a small light began winking. "Bug suppressor," he explained at Sam's curious look. "I can't have people over hearing me when I'm talking about state secrets."

"So he is on some sort of undercover assignment?"

"Sort of," hedged Barrett. "I'm not really sure of all the details, but I'll give you what I have been able to verify myself."

"Okay. That's better than the 'I don't know' my team I have been getting so far."

"Whatever is was that went down at the end of September, it went as high as the President and the Joint Chiefs because Hammond phoned them and they convened a meeting straight away to decide what to do. I'm almost sure that was the who and where for the decision on O'Neill's removal from the SGC. What I am surprised about is the seeming lack of protest from Hammond and Hayes."

"Protest?"

"Yeah, while O'Neill may not consider his contribution to the SGC to amount to much, both Hayes and Hammond had the General pegged to take over Hammond's position as Head of Homeworld Security when he retires in July next year. Jack has a lot of political enemies because of his tendency to do the right thing and worry about protocol later, and they have pushed time and again to have him removed as far away from the SGC as possible.

"It has only been the effort of Hayes, Hammond and a few others that has prevented O'Neill from being forcibly retired from the SGC some time ago. So, yes, I was surprised at the lack of protest over O'Neill's removal. Something really big must have happened for that to occur. This still leaves us with the 'why'."

"And you don't have an answer to that?" asked Sam, more worried than ever at what fate Jack had met during SG-1's absence.

"I have some bits and pieces, nothing concrete yet. What I do know is that it has something to do with an off-world site that SG-5 visited back in late September."

Her blood froze in her veins at the mention of SG-5. "They're dead."

"Pardon?"

"They're dead, Malcolm. They failed to clock in on time and were eventually declared dead when they were seven days overdue."

"I don't think whatever happened with Jack warranted SG-5 being killed off by our own people, Sam, if that is what you are thinking."

The blonde shook her head. "It's not, but General Landry had made the comment to me that prior to loosing SG-5 there had been plans to alter the make up of the team. Do you think that perhaps they knew something?"

"It's possible, but there is no way of knowing now."

"True."

"What I was able to glean from various sources about what was decided at that meeting strongly suggests that O'Neill isn't part of the SGC anymore, or even possibly the Air Force."

"They retired him?" queried Carter.

"No, as I said Hayes and Hammond would have protested that. It appears, and this is merely only slightly supported speculation, that O'Neill has been forced to assume a new identity for his own protection. I have no clues as to the new identity or where he might be, but can tell you that this isn't the first time this has happened to him."

"He's in some sort of witness protection programme? What does that have to do with SG-5? This isn't making any sense?"

"That is why I warned you that it was only flimsy speculation. I'll say again, whatever it was that has happened is _big_. Big enough for Hammond and Hayes to forego their plans for Jack's future."

Sam tried to understand what she was being told. "And you say this isn't the first time he's had to assume a new identity that General O'Neill has had to pretend to be other people before?"

"No."

"No?"

Barrett inclined his head. "You're looking at it from the wrong point of view Sam. O'Neill is an identity that he had to assume to avoid another problem."

"You mean...?" began Carter, unable to finish the sentence.

"That Brigadier General Jonathan 'Jack' O'Neill is a false identity for someone the government wanted to protect? Yes."

She couldn't help herself, but she felt her arms and legs go rubbery at the thought. The concept that Jack O'Neill was simply a construct, a facade for a possibly completely different person, threw her whole world into a spin. Sam felt Malcolm steadying her with his arms. After a moment or two, she felt strong enough to stand on her own.

"You okay?"

She nodded, not trusting her voice. The agent switched off the 'suppressor' and put it back in his coat pocket. "I'll be going now. If I learn anything more I'll let you and your team know, okay?"

"Okay. Thank you, Agent Barrett."

"My pleasure, Colonel Carter."

With that, the man was gone and Sam sat back on her stool, reflecting that she was now somehow on the other side of the looking glass where the world she knew was a strange and twisted reflection. Nothing looked the same in this place, her relationship with Pete, the SGC, her team, and especially not what she thought she knew about the man named Jack O'Neill.

Michael & Sara Daniels' house, Colorado Springs

November 7th, 2004

1656 hrs

Jac placed the last newspaper wrapped item into the box and closed the lid. Cutting a length of duct tape, she sealed the lid of the box and scrawled the words 'Sara's study' on the side in black marker. Dropping the marker on the floor next the pile of old newspapers, Jac gracefully picked the box up and carried it into the lounge where she stacked it next to the growing pile of boxes that represented the packed goods of several rooms in the house.

Dusting her hands lightly Jac surveyed the pile. It felt strange helping Sara pack up her and Michael's belongings, and she wondered if this is what it had felt like for the nameless SFs who had without complaint boxed up her old life of Jack O'Neill. The movers were coming tomorrow to begin moving Michael and Sara's things to their temporary home in Boston and Jac had offered to spend the day packing the last few boxes while the couple in question enjoyed their last Sunday in Colorado Springs.

The three of them would be moving to Boston together, something Sara had managed to persuade Michael to agree to after her bout of tears at the mall. That would give the neo-woman somewhere to live till she was able to reclaim Jack's house at the end of the month. It also provided her with the regular feature of Sara in her life to provide some sense of family. Near the end of November she was due back in Colorado Springs for her fitness test at the SGC and that would spell the end of her temporary family.

Casting her eye about the blank walls and empty rooms Jac decided that the house, as it stood right now, was an apt metaphor for her life as it currently was. Hollow with no friends or family to help fill it, and all her past thoughts, feelings, and experiences packed away in boxes. She had over a week ago decided to try and live her new life without dwelling on her past, but with things constantly reminding her of what she had lost it had proven to be something of a hard ask for herself.

She had never really enjoyed those sorts of deep ties with people before and now that she had lost them, she was loath to give up the feelings that went behind them least she loose everything she once was. Drying a tear from her left eye with the knuckle of her hand, she reaffirmed to herself that she would just have to work harder at dealing with her loss. She could tuck those emotional memories deep inside herself where they would still be a part of her but at the same time not a facet of her new self that anybody would ever see.

Wandering into the bare kitchen and chuckling at the idea of herself as Old Mother Hubbard, Jac reached for the phone and dialled the local pizza place. She felt like an early snack and since Sara and Michael wouldn't be back till late, she didn't have to worry about feeding them.

Samantha Carter's apartment, Colorado Springs

November 8th, 2004

1309 hrs

Her fiancé Pete Shanahan had shown up shortly after she had finished lunch and had just begun settling down with a cup of good coffee and a scientific journal, repeatedly using the buzzer till she let him in.

If he'd noticed the scowl on her face he gave no indication of it as he swept past her, dumped his bags on the sofa she'd been getting comfortable on, and as she turned back to welcome him landed a desperately searching kiss on her - with tongue. Her cold fish routine eventually got through to him and he backed off slightly, but not far enough that he wasn't still invading her personal space. "So, Sam," he said excitedly as if she had returned the kiss with equal vigour, "I managed to get some time off from my boss so that we can spend the next few days together just reconnecting as an engaged couple."

She stared at him. What was he saying? Days? "Pete that may not be possible if I have to go back to work."

"But General Landry told me that he'd given you seven whole days off and that he wasn't likely to call you in during that time if he could help it."

Sam felt like she had just been depth charged. He'd gone behind her back to find out what time she had off from General Landry. She had worried yesterday about his controlling nature and about her secure oasis of 'Sam time' that was the SGC that he had tried to chip away at. Here he was proving that her work was not the secure bastion that she had believed it was.

"Pete, just what do you think we are going to be doing for the next few days?" She may have been on downtime but she had hoped that she was going to hear from Agent Barrett again later in the week about his leads on Jack ..._the General _and was also going to clock in with Daniel and Teal'c one evening to fill them in on what the agent had already told her.

The cop had a silly grin on his face and the realisation of what he was thinking didn't bring a warm sensation to here belly as it had done in the past. With all the soul-searching that she undergone in the last month she felt like falling into bed with Pete was akin to reaffirming her decision after the Prometheus escapade to give up on the idle dream of a life with her commanding officer. She had to sort things out in her own mind before she felt comfortable with sharing herself with Pete like that.

Sam crossed her arms and hoped that the body language signal to 'back off' would register with the man in her apartment. It seemed to work as he pulled further away from her and threw himself into one of the seats in her lounge.

"We haven't talked with each other in over a month other than me phoning you to let you know I'm coming here. Something, which I'll have you note, you didn't object to. So what is with the 'don't touch me' routine when I get here?"

Climbing onto her sofa and avoiding Pete's bag she surveyed her fiancé from across the room. Never before had such a short distance seemed so vast or insurmountable.

"Pete..." She let the word hang as she realised that she wasn't sure what she wanted to say. They had been engaged for two months now and that first month when he'd been able to drop by the Springs every week had been wonderful.

Even though she felt that perhaps Pete had rushed them a little in becoming engaged, her decision to say 'yes' was something she hadn't taken lightly after the last man she had been engaged to. She had recently been forced to reconsider why she had said 'yes' in the first place. Her thoughts at the time had all been about going out and getting the life that she thought she deserved, the romance, the fun, and a man who could love her without restraints.

Yet she had taken two weeks to make her decision. She had told herself that she was just taking due time to consider all her options. That she had held on to the ring for most of those two weeks, unable to even take it out of the box and look at it, was something she had ignored. In fact, the only time it had come out to be seen since Pete had shown her it was when she'd gone to the General and handed him the box. That she had done that, and then said 'yes' after the subsequent short conversation with O'Neill, was something that Daniel had forced her to re-examine.

Why had she held onto the ring for so long if she thought Pete was the man to marry? Why had see deemed it necessary to talk to the General about it before deciding when it was a personal issue wholly unconnected to the workings of SG-1 and the SGC? These were questions that she desperately needed answers to before she let her relationship with Pete move on.

That wonderful first month with its euphoria at her engagement had faded into the revelation that General O'Neill was no longer at the SGC and a part of her life after SG-1's accidental snubbing of the older man. He had been abruptly, and as she reflected back, painfully ripped from their lives with no obvious way of stitching things back together to restore the status quo. While that seemed like a good idea, Sam didn't want the status quo back if it meant continuing to ignore the man who had had the most influence on her life. She wanted him back in her life in all the important ways.

"You're thinking about him aren't you?" muttered Pete as he interrupted her train of thought.

"Pardon?" she asked confusedly.

"The General. O'Neill. Jack. Now that he's no longer your CO you are seriously entertaining the idea of a relationship with him aren't you?"

Sam sat stunned, unable to comprehend where the conversation was going. "He's a friend Pete; you're the one I'm engaged to." The reply was glib and had required no thought.

"That may be true, Sam," said Pete taking a deep breath as if he was able to plunge on into something he didn't really want to face. "But you and I both know that if he hadn't been your CO when I proposed to you that we wouldn't be sitting here together."

"Pete, you're jealous?"

The cop looked at her as if she'd grown another head. "Jealous? Of course I'm jealous, you talk about the man practically twenty-four-seven and when you're not talking it more than looks like you're thinking of him. Tell me that you weren't just thinking about him now."

"Of course I was, he's disappeared on some mission and my team and I are worried about him," she argued back somewhat lamely. O'Neill's mysterious transfer hadn't been the central, unifying thought when she had been thinking about him.

"And you can't see what is wrong, Sam? Here you are in the same room with your fiancé and you are thinking about another man!" Pete thumped the arm of the chair he sat in.

Pete's words forced her to go back over some of her conversations with Daniel and Teal'c on P7X-135 when the pair had pointed out the same thing. Her working relationship with O'Neill was a huge wedge in her life with Pete, constantly keeping them apart. Pieces tumbled into place that, while not leaving her with the whole picture, at least made the final image somewhat easier to guess. Pete obviously feared that her relationship with the General was going to eventually undermine their own relationship.

How could she reassure him that it wouldn't when she'd confessed to Daniel a month ago that she didn't know what she wanted, or more correctly which man she wanted, and still didn't know even now? She loved them both, differently of course, but it was still love. And that was why, she now reasoned, that she was pushing so desperately to find the General. She needed to be able to sort out her feelings for the man and settle things whichever way they went before she could ever truly move on with her life.

And that meant that Pete had to wait as well, had to sit on the sidelines and watch as she wrestled with her feelings for both of them knowing that there was a good chance that in the end she wouldn't pick him. Could she do that to the man in front of her who was, like Daniel had, forcing her to really look at her heart even when it could cost him his future with her? Her eyes began to tear up knowing now that she was putting two good men through the emotional wringer all because her heart and head were at war with each other.

"I need time," she finally announced to the silent room.

"Time" Pete sounded defeated yet not surprised, as if he had half expected that to be her response. He sat up in his chair, looking less vibrant that he had in the past as if the life had been sucked from him.

Sam guessed that must pretty much be how a man felt when a woman essentially told him that she had unresolved feelings for another man.

"I'm sorry, Pete, I shouldn't be putting you through this. Not after I said 'yes' to being engaged. I just..."

The Denver law enforcement officer waved her off before more hollow sounding words poured from her mouth. "I'm not going to pretend I understand, because I don't. But you're a wonderful woman Sam and I love you, so I'm willing to wait and hope that when the time comes that it will be me that you turn to."

He stood and then crossed the distance between them. Snagging his bags with one hand he planted a chaste kiss on her forehead and pulled back, dragging his bags off the sofa as he did so.

"I'm going to find a motel and crash there for the night Sam and in the morning I'll head back to Denver. Say you had some emergency come up and you lost your free time. My boss will understand."

"Pete —"

"No, Sam," he argued as he moved to the door. "You need time to work this out and having me around won't help things. It may even just slow it down. Call me when you know what you want."

Then he was gone and Sam found herself alone in her apartment on a sunny Monday afternoon, unable to think or do anything, as her life seemed to unravel around her.

Michael & Sara Daniels' apartment, Boston

November 21st, 2004

1756 hrs

Jac stood looking out the apartment window at the falling snow that was blanketing the city, covering everything in a layer of pure white that worked wonders to hide the sins of the large city like ugly buildings, industrialisation, and overpopulation. It brought a serene calmness to her thoughts as she reviewed her life since waking up in the SGC infirmary to find what she had considered one of the few concrete things in her life, her gender, wasn't quite as set in stone as she had thought it was.

It was now almost two months since whatever had happened on P5X-878 had taken place and her life, what little had remained of it, had been placed in a blender and set on puree. When the contents had settled the only things that had remained were her commitment to the Air Force and a place in her life for her ex-wife Sara. Everything else, friends and family, was gone.

While she had remained in Colorado Springs with Sara and her new husband Michael, Jac had attempted to piece together a new life by using bits of her old. After Iraq and all its Technicolor horrors Major O'Neill had been dubbed 'Humpty Dumpty' by one of the more astute airmen that he had served with. He had been knocked off his wall so many times in his life that piecing him back together had become second nature. But, as the nickname suggested, he had never been able to truly put himself back together each time no matter what help he received from the King's horses and men.

Charlie, Iraq, Ba'al. Just three names in a long list of events that had seen his self- image shattered into little pieces. Each time trying to pick himself up and carry on was like putting a glass window back together broken sliver by broken sliver of glass, leaving himself with bloodied hands at the end of the futile effort. By the time he'd been dealt the final body blows of Carter's engagement and his gender bender Jac figured that the pieces of herself must have resembled grains of sand thanks to the repeated beatings he had taken.

She giggled lightly at the image of her former male self, sitting in the middle of a pile of sand, the nice shiny type that Daniel always liked to go digging in, trying to glue one grain to another in the hopes of putting 'Humpty' back together. Jac reached out a short arm to touch her pale reflection in the window, nodding to herself in reaffirmation that her decision was the only one that she could make.

After packing and moving with the Daniels to Boston Jac had waved a white flag over the idea of rebuilding her life with the pieces of Jack O'Neill that remained. Instead, she had bravely decided to forge a brand new life as Jacqueline O'Neill, a life that didn't rely on the emotional ties and attachments of her previous life. Yes, she'd have to deal and interact with facets of that past life, most notably at the SGC, but when she did, it would always be in the context of building a new relationship, not repairing an old one.

It would hurt. She knew that, but if there was one thing that she was supremely good at in every identity that she had ever taken on then it was working past the hurt till she could confidently not acknowledge its existence. That was what she had spent her time in Boston doing, pushing down and locking away the pain that giving up her old life brought her. That and more lessons in what it meant to be a woman. Despite moving cities and everything that that involved, Sara had determined to make the most of Jac's now limited time with her and had dragged the younger woman out almost every day in order to give her crash course lessons in womanhood.

She had been included in the formal dinner with Michael's new boss, forcing Jac to use what she learnt from Sara or observations of other women while out in public in order to mix with a group of people she had never met before and, like Michael, knew nothing of her past. The following morning after Sara got off the phone from talking to the boss' wife, she excitedly told the twenty-four year old that she had put up a convincing performance. That the other women attending the dinner had decided that she was a wonderful young woman who was worth getting to know.

At first Jac had been confused. She had chalked this up to being thought of as a 'wonderful young woman'. It was later, when she realised that she had reacted to everything that dinner night in a casual and natural way that it dawned on her that, despite Sara's choice of the word 'performance', her behaviour had in no way been artificial or staged. The new 'self' that she had worked on shaping and soaking in since arriving in Boston had finally asserted itself and buried Jack O'Neill. In essence, Jacqueline O'Neill had had her coming out at that dinner party.

Eyes still focussed on the translucent image of a woman reflected in the window Jac allowed herself a small smile. She had a new life now, a second chance. Jack O'Neill might have let it pass him by, still mourning the past, but Jac was not that sort of person. She had her eyes fixed on a new future. A by-product of being young once more perhaps? She didn't know what that future would look like but at least she now had the will to face it head on and make of it what she could.

Yesterday Sara had declared that Jac had learned all that she could teach in the time they had had and that only a lifetime of living as a woman could teach her more. Today was her last day living with Sara and her husband, of living in Boston, and of talking to those people she had befriended here already. She had a list of people who would welcome a visit from her should she visit the city again, top of the list being her hosts Sara and Michael. Tomorrow she would be on a plane back to Colorado Springs to face the physical test, the last hurdle before she would be back among the staff of the SGC.

"Jac?"

Sara's voice from behind her drew her attention away from her reflection and toward the blonde woman as she stood in the doorway that led to the kitchen.

"Hmmm?"

Since that dinner evening Jac had been more than comfortable in her own skin, she had been happy. It was quite evident to Sara the change that had taken place. While on one hand she grieved for the loss of the man who had once been her husband, she could not help on the other but be glad that the woman who had replaced him on the face of the Earth was now alive and able to build a new future. Rather than point out the change, something she felt sure Jac knew had happened, she simply announced, "Dinner is ready. Would you care to join us?"

Nodding Jac bounced across the room on her sock clad feet, pausing in the doorway to give Sara a bone crushing hug and whisper 'thank you' in her ear before entering the kitchen with a cry of "Your team hasn't a hope this round, you know that don't you, Michael?"

P2X-117

1805 hrs

Lt. Colonel Samantha Carter had hoped that she would be on base at the SGC when her new teammate Captain Jacqueline O'Neill arrived to undergo her final physical test before officially joining the ranks of SGC personnel. Unfortunately, Major General Hank Landry had had other ideas and had signed SG-1 off on a mission to P2X-117 in order to study a series of ruins that had caught Daniel's eye. Carter was inclined to believe that Daniel had purposely put the mission forward to General Landry in order to get her off world when Captain O'Neill arrived. She had to admit that she had been somewhat overly keen to meet the young woman who was General O'Neill's niece.

She had been excited for several reasons. One of which was the fact that it was going to be nice to have another woman on the team. She hadn't mentioned that one to Daniel or Teal'c lest they feel slighted, but even thought she loved working side by side with the pair, and with O'Neill when he had been team leader, she missed the company of talking with another woman about things she could just never bring herself to share with 'the guys'. On top of that, she had been all set to start picking the brain of the SGC's latest recruit as soon as the woman had set foot inside the mountain, wanting to bounce ideas and theories off possibly one of the few people who would be able to keep up with her when she began bending the laws of physics for missions. The possibility of being able to spar with someone intellectually about topics that fell under her own interests was something she was excited about.

There was a third reason, one which she felt was the one that Daniel subscribed to, and that was that Captain O'Neill represented the chance to know more about her notoriously tight lipped ex-CO, to learn things about the man's past and family that he had never willing given up when he had been at the SGC. He had never mentioned an ex-wife, nor the loss of a child, to her or Teal'c until the events of the crystalline alien Charlie, even then he had explained as little as possible, giving the bare facts and withholding the detail.

Despite three very good reasons to want to meet the young Captain Carter, fate with a little help from Daniel and Landry had conspired to delay their introductions. Instead, she was here, sitting alone in her little tent as she listened to the sound of the raining falling. While they had got in a good days worth of exploring, just as they had settled down to prepare their evening meal the rain clouds had settled in. Sam was glad that she had a tent to herself, as she didn't feel like dealing with the Laurel and Hardy team in the other tent.

She had made the mistake at lunchtime, in an attempt to find a way forward with her personal life, to tell Daniel about her confrontation with Pete in her apartment almost two weeks ago. The archaeologist had taken that as permission to pick up where he had left off on P7X-135 although this time he didn't give his opinions in the same unvarnished manner. Her temporary freezing out of the man she thought of as a brother having had something positive come out of it. The man was like a dog with a bone and now that she had given him a sniff once more he had locked his jaws around the problem and wasn't go to let go again like last time.

As she turned over in her sleeping bag and tried to get warm, she made a little prayer to whoever was listening that when they got back to the SGC that Agent Barrett might have something more about Jack's situation to give her.

The Jaf'fa watched the horizon keenly, standing some three or four long paces away from where ColonelCarter crouched over one of her many tests. A little further away from the pair he could see DanielJackson sat in front of one wall of the ruins, butt-end of the pencil in his hands being tapped repeatedly against his lips as he worked through the translation of the carvings.

In an attempt to sidetrack the archaeologist from his noble pursuit of getting their team leader to listen to her heart, their CO had told them what little AgentBarrett had managed to already dig up about the sudden transfer of their friend O'Neill from the SGC. What little information that was to be had disturbed the big man. On one hand, they were being told that whatever had triggered the transfer had been big enough to risk O'Neill's future. On the other, they had basically been told that O'Neill wasn't the man they had thought he was.

Dealing with the first issue Teal'c pondered just what could be so important that O'Neill had to be removed from the SGC. Both DanielJackson and ColonelCarter had speculated about some sort of NID sting-type mission. At first the Jaf'fa considered this a reasonable supposition to make given the scattered and sketchy details of O'Neill's past suggested that those sorts of Black Ops missions were indeed part of his repertoire. But on reflection Teal'c had to weigh up the physical limitations of age and O'Neill now relatively high status within the world of military covert projects. He was too high profile and with recurring problems like his knees, he was not a good choice to send out on a covert mission. If he wasn't recognised first, then there was a good chance that his body might betray him at the worst possible time.

Which brought things back to what the Tau'ri referred to as 'square one'. What had happened that necessitated the removal of O'Neill from the SGC? AgentBarrett had suggested that SG-5 might somehow have been involved. In order to better understand that angle Teal'c resolved to access the mission logs of the team and identify anything that might have made Barrett suggest such a connection. He did not put the same faith in the man as ColonelCarter did, feeling that he was holding something back from them.

The second half of the issue was the hint that the man known to SG-1 as Jack O'Neill was nothing more than a cover and that a potentially very different man lived beneath the skin of O'Neill. For Teal'c this was a far more worrying and pressing issue because it struck him to the core, throwing him right back to the most life changing decision he had ever made. He could still picture in his mind that day when he had made the decision to trust the then Colonel O'Neill and betray his position as First Prime of Apophis. He did not regret the decision, even in the light of these revelations about the man's past, but it did make him wonder if he had truly judged the man's character that day.

Based on what he had seen since then and right up to the last time he had witnessed O'Neill in action at their mission briefing for P7X-135, he would have to say that he had judged O'Neill correctly, coming away with a true measure of the man. But now there was a small creeping doubt. Had O'Neill somehow deceived him? Looked him straight in the eye and lied to him about a great many things? Had their bond as brothers in arms been nothing more than a sham? The Jaf'fa did not like to think so and tried to bolster his confidence in his initial judgment of the man. For that was all he could do for now. But like ColonelCarter he now had a pressing reason to find the General. He too had issues to settle.

SGC

1000 hrs

Precisely on time, Captain Jacqueline O'Neill stepped into the SGC infirmary in order to undergo the physical tests that would be the last hurdle to overcome before being allowed out in the field. If she had been General O'Neill, she would have arrived several minutes late, fidgeted with everything in sight to deal with her nerves and generally made the medical staff angry with him. She felt somewhat overdressed standing there in her dress blues, but since this was her 'first' time at the SGC she didn't have any BDUs to wear.

Since she'd shed that life like a snake...like a butterfly coming out a cocoon (she liked that metaphor better) she had told herself that she couldn't afford to display the disrespectful traits that the General had. He had a history of doing things for the country that allowed him some latitude with protocol, but Captain O'Neill did not have that history. If she wanted to make anything of this second chance then she had to toe the line with things like orders and her behaviour around the staff. Because of that she almost gave Doctor Brightman a heart attack with the sight of her standing in the infirmary on time.

"Captain O'Neill, reporting as ordered, Doctor," said Jac as her eyes met the Doctors.

The chief medical officer gestured for the younger woman to follow her to another part of the infirmary and get up on the empty bed. "I'm surprised to see you here on time, O'Neill."

"I'm not my uncle, Ma'am." If she hadn't been trying to 'toe the line', Jac would have collapsed with laughter at the shocked look on Brightman's face.

"Ah...so I can see," managed the Doctor as her brain tried to reboot. Jac had been gone for only a little over a month and a half and already she found it difficult to see anything of the General in her. "Well, let's get these tests out of the way then shall we?"

Jac nodded and the Doctor drew a curtain around the bed. Picking up her clipboard Brightman filled in the standard parts of the chart with things like name and _gender. _She kicked herself after she nearly crossed the box marked _male_. "Birth date?"

"Pardon?"

"Your birthday, when is it? Hammond forgot that little detail when he filled me in on your new identity."

"Oh!" exclaimed Jac in understanding. "Twenty-third of March, 1980."

"Same as your _uncle_?"

Jac grinned at the other woman. "It's what gave my parents the idea to name me after him."

"I see. What can you tell me about the past month and half since you were last here as far as your body goes?"

Jac filled her in with details about her body height, weight, flexibility, as well as her eating patterns, periods, weight gains and loss. She told her how she'd keep up her fitness regime with some modifications from Sara due to her female body. The Doctor took a blood test and tested general things like reaction times, pulse, hearing, and eyesight. Then she sent the Air Force officer off to the commissary to get something to eat while she compared the new data with the baseline she'd created upon Jac's arrival from P5X-878.

It was as Jac was just finishing a particularly good piece of the pie, if compared to standard commissary fare, when an SF approached and informed her that General Landry wished to see her in his office right now. Nodded, she thanked the airman and disposed of her tray. She slipped into the women's toilets without a blink, Sara having long ago hardened her to going in by dragging her to at least one on every outing into the public. She checked her appearance in the mirror and wiped the few stray pie flakes off her dress blues. Quirking a smile at the woman in the mirror she left out a huff of air and went in search of the office that had once been hers, in what seemed a lifetime ago. Passing Walter and Siler with little more than a polite smile, after all, she supposedly didn't know anything about either of them; she knocked lightly on the office door and heard Landry give permission to enter. Once she had closed the door she snapped off a sharp salute of the kind she'd given back when a cadet. Her salutes had grown sloppier the higher in the ranks she had climbed as Jack. However, Jac couldn't afford to give anything less than her best for the General and her new CO.

"Captain O'Neill reporting as ordered, Sir."

"Thank you, Captain, please take a seat."

Jac eased herself into one of the two seats facing the General's desk and waited patiently as the man in the 'big seat' completed the paperwork in front of him. Shuffling the sheets of paper away into a plain manila folder, he dropped it into the Out box and Jac had to suppress a chuckle at Landry's expression when he realised that the pile in the In box was still twice the size of the pile in the Out one. Opening a drawer, Landry pulled out a folder and sat it on the desk in front of him as he got himself somewhat more comfortable in his chair.

"I've read your file, Captain, and I must say I'm impressed. You've done the Air Force proud and we are extremely glad to have you here at the SGC. And as a friend of your uncle who is a fine officer, I'm very happy to be in some way serving with another member of the O'Neill clan."

"Thank you, Sir."

Tapping the still closed folder the General continued, "Now I've had a call from Doctor Brightman and everything has come back clear, so you've got the green light to be let out into the field."

"Sir," acknowledged Jac.

"I take it you have been informed about what happened to the SG team you were due to be assigned to at the end of December?"

"Yes, Sir, Hammond explained that they had been lost off world and declared KIA." Jac had wondered what her posting was going to be with the loss of SG-5; surely they wouldn't tie her down to a lab would they? She had already guessed the nature of her summons to Landry's office; the General was going to tell her what her new assignment was going to be.

"Yes, that wasn't exactly the sort of thing I wanted to have to deal with so soon after taking on the job here. Still, it means that we had to rethink what to do with you. Hammond hadn't outlined any back up plans and so it was up to me to decide."

Jac nodded, not trusting her voice. This was beginning to sound like she _was _going to be tied to a lab.

"Initially I was going to sign you up to a lab till a new SG team could be assembled, but one of the SG team leaders saw your file and offered to take you on as they had an empty slot going in their team."

Taken aback Jac allowed a small smile to creep onto her face at the prospect of dodging endless days of lab work. Then she mentally flicked through the list of SG teams in search of one that might have a gap. Had they lost someone on top of SG-5 while she had been gone?

"In many ways this is a fitting assignment for you, Captain, as you'll be going in as second in command for our flagship team SG-1."

It was like ice water in her veins. Landry was assigning her to SG-1! Carter had read her file and requested her to be assigned. She was confident that no one on base would ever realize that she had once been General O'Neill, and was secure that in limited exposure to them SG-1 wouldn't realise either. For her to be placed with SG-1 in such close conditions before she had smoothed away all of Jack O'Neill was essentially asking for the three of them to see through the lie. There was no way she could turn this down without raising questions or being trapped in a lab.

Pasting a big smile on her face, she faked it. "Thank you, Sir. I know this is an important assignment and I'll do my best not to let you, SG-1, or the SGC down, Sir."

"It's my pleasure, Captain."

"When will I be introduced to SG-1, Sir?"

Landry eased back in his seat. "Perhaps not for another week. They are off-world on P2X-117 for another couple of days. Since your posting here doesn't officially begin till January, you won't be going off-world with them till then to give you time to settle in here. So your exposure to them will probably be limited before then unless they decide to invite you to a team get together to get to know you better."

"Understood, Sir what will I be doing here till I'm allowed off-world?"

"Well," began Landry, "We've assigned you a lab space of your own, so between fitting that out how you want it, getting your locker sorted, and having all the gear you need issued, that should keep you busy till the Christmas season."

"Yes, Sir."

"Once again, I'll glad to have another O'Neill on board. You may go now, Captain."

"Yes Sir, thank you, Sir."

P2X-117

1459 hrs

It should have been a milk run Carter told herself, despite the rain, there was nothing that could have gone wrong. No natives to offend. No ancient doomsday device that needed destroying. No bizarre disease. Yet the one thing that General O'Neill had always counted on to ruin a milk run mission had turned up once more like a bad penny.

Only fifteen minutes ago, Teal'c had returned from the direction of the stargate where he'd gone to dial Earth and clock in with the SGC, and had begun breaking camp.

The Jaf'fa explained, as the two humans helped to decamp, that when he'd reached the area of the stargate he'd found that it was now in the hands of a Goa'uld. It wasn't reassuring that Teal'c had managed to identify the Jaf'fa as belonging to Ba'al. The Goa'uld was well aware that a SG team was on the planet having found and destroyed the MALP they had left behind at the gate.

All of this was why, fifteen minutes after Teal'c had come crashing into their camp, SG-1 was packed up and moving silently away from the ruins in the direction of the higher ground offered by some close by foothills. Since Teal'c had been unable to make contact with the SGC at the assigned time, Carter was counting on them dialling P2X-117 and on getting no signal from the MALP sending another one through. That would be enough to alert them to the Jaf'fa. After that all SG-1 had to do was find a way of surviving till the SGC could mount a rescue operation. As the three of them crept along the ridge of the foothills, they debated the reasons for the arrival of Ba'al's Jaf'fa.

What was it about this planet that had led the Goa'uld to decide to lay claim to it? Teal'c offered strategy, that the planet was potentially a possible staging place for an attack on another System Lord. Daniel argued that the ruins might be the reason. The pair had expected her to suggest possible naquadah deposits. Instead, she had muttered something about karma and fate and led them over the ridge in search of secure shelter.

That she'd acted more like their ex-CO in that brief exchange, and less like the Colonel Carter they were used to on missions, did not go unnoticed by the two men. Given how obviously stressed out she was about the evolution her personal life was going through, they opted not to comment verbally on the likeness. So they just followed her lead, as they scrambled into the new valley and made their way toward a promising series of caves further along this side of the ridge.

With the arrival of the Jaf'fa Carter felt a strange sense of ease and relief. It was then that she realised that she'd really stepped into the _Twilight_ _Zone_ if being hunted by Jaf'fa, on an alien planet, brought the comfort of familiarity to her. In a world of cascading change brought on by General O'Neill's transfer, she realised that she was beginning to cling desperately to what she saw as her rocks of stability.

Pete hadn't asked for the engagement ring back because he still loved her and still wanted to marry her, despite the confusion in her heart. She hadn't given Pete the ring back as her doubts grew, because he represented a form of stability for her, despite the changes to her life he brought with him. She'd thought he'd be there for her through everything, except if she gave the ring back. However, even without her giving the ring back to him he'd stepped away, robbing her of that rock in her emotional storm.

She had held fast to her job, rather than leaving it and hunting down Jack in order to solve the crisis of choice her heart was facing, because again it provided order for her a refuge from a social life that was in chaos. Yet with O'Neill gone and Pete working at her commitment to the job, her workplace has also dissolved from calm regulation into an uncertain future.

Her friends, Teal'c and Daniel had been there for her during times of confusion. Unlike in the past when they had just been there, whenever she needed them, now they were unfamiliar. Teal'c seemed to radiate disapproval from every pore and Daniel, instead of shoring up her defences, had been the one to break them down with a series of carefully crafted arguments.

With a choked laugh she could now see why being hunted by Jaf'fa could bring her a sense of peace that she had been unable to obtain from her normal places of sanctuary. SG-1 might be in for a protracted stay on P2X-117, but at least her mind would be at ease. That sort of illogical reasoning brought Jack's grinning face to mind and instead of helping her team establish camp at the mouth of the cave she found herself stumbling into the darkened interior to find a spot where she could bawl her eyes out. Being this emotionally confused sucked.

SGC

1517 hrs

In the gateroom beyond the glass of the control room the stargate was active. The great metal inner ring of the ancient device was rotating, pausing as a fifth chevron now locked into position.

"What is the problem, Walter?"

Landry had stepped up into the control room at the request of Walter Harriman, who'd informed him of a situation that needed dealing with. Sitting in his chair Harriman gave the General a brief glance before returning his eyes to the computer console in from on him.

"SG-1 failed to make their scheduled routine check in for 1400 hours, Sir. We're currently dialling P2X-117 in order to link in with the MALP and see if we can re-establish contact with the team."

Landry cast his eyes to the spinning gate and watched as the final chevron was announced as locked, the wormhole establishing itself in a blast of brilliant bluish-white light.

"No signal, Sir," announced Harriman. "There must be something wrong with the MALP on their end. Send another through?"

The General gave a nod and a minute or two later the replacement device was moving through the stargate. After a few seconds, a signal was received and Harriman brought the video image up on the main screen. For a moment or two, they could see the area around the gate was swarming with Jaf'fa before the MALP signal was lost amid a blaze of staff weapon fire.

"Bring up those last images," ordered Landry.

The monitor image froze on a picture of Jaf'fa platoons spreading out and away from the gate.

"Well that explains why we haven't heard from SG-1." Landry shook his head at the trouble his flagship had managed to land themselves in. He'd read their files and knew that this was almost par for course for them, but he couldn't help but still feel anxious that one of his teams was now trapped off world on a planet riddled with Jaf'fa. "Send that image down to the anthropologists; I want to know which Goa'uld we're dealing with."

Harriman nodded and began e-mailing the still image. As he did so, he looked up at the General. "Are we sending a team in to rescue them, Sir?"

Landry paused. "Who do we have on base right now?"

Flicking through the data Walter replied, "Just SG-7 and SG-15, Sir."

The General looked down at the floor in disgust. "That's it? A team of scientists and a team with too many injuries? Call up the staff list. Who do we have sitting by idle and whom can we recall from their downtime? Have the list, along with the names from SG-7 and those on SG-15 not injured, to me in fifteen minutes."

With that, Landry stalked out of the control, on his way to his office and a stiff drink from the bottle stored in the bottom draw of his desk. Twenty minutes and one drink later Landry was sifting through the files of those people available for a rescue mission. He'd managed to whittle the pile down to five, but wanted a sixth just to give the team some more firepower as well as aid should any of SG-1 be incapacitated when found. Landry sure as hell wasn't going to entertain the notion that any of SG-1 was already dead.

It was as he considered either going himself on to the front lines or having another drink, that there was a knock at his office door. He half hoped it would be Harriman with some good news for once, but being a glass half empty kind of guy he wasn't holding out much hope.

"Come in," he called, and was surprised to see the young Captain O'Neill enter his office.

"Captain?"

"General, Sir, I just wanted to stop by before I left the base. Brightman says there is nothing else I'm needed for so I won't see you again till I'm on duty in December. I wanted to say thank you for welcoming me onto the base and for kind words about my uncle." Jac felt as if she was laying it on a little thick, but it wasn't often someone at his level said something nice about her last identity.

"You're welcome, Captain."

Jac nodded and waited for her dismissal, which after a few seconds didn't come, and she noticed that the General had gone back to staring at the papers in front of him. Figuring that she had been dismissed she made to move for the door.

"I haven't dismissed you yet, Captain."

Freezing, Jac blushed with mortification at her presumption. She felt like a cadet again. That was the sort of behaviour that Jack could have gotten away with, not Jac. "Sorry, Sir. I assumed you were too busy to bother with dismissing me, Sir."

"Never think that," smiled Landry, before pausing. "I haven't dismissed you because I'm considering a weird and wonderful idea."

"Sir?"

"How much field experience do you have, O'Neill?"

"Off-world, Sir? None?" Stick to the script Jac told herself.

Landry leaned forward in his seat as if sizing up the young officer in front of him. "But you have had experience out in the field, here on Earth, have you not?"

"Yes, Sir."

"And you're up to speed with the zats and staff weapons?"

"Yes, Sir."

Landry pushed himself out of his chair, snatching up a piece of paper with a list of five names on it. "Come with me."

With that order, Landry head back to the control room where he passed the piece of paper to Harriman, ordering to contact those listed and have them report to the briefing room in half an hour. With Jac still trailing he led her deeper into the complex till they arrived at the stores. Grabbing another female officer Landry instructed her to kit Jac out with several sets of BDUs.

"Sir?"

Landry gave Jac a piercing look. "You're going out in the field today, O'Neill."

"Today, Sir?" she squeaked. She could kick herself for squeaking. If Samantha Carter could pull off the self-assured Air Force woman then there was no way in hell that Jacqueline O'Neill couldn't do it too. Which meant no squeaking or giggling while on duty.

"Briefing room, quarter of an hour, Captain" and then Landry was gone.

Jac threw a sheepish look at her fellow female officer and shrugged, giving herself up to the woman to be organised with BDU's.

Fourteen very hurried minutes later, after stuffing her new locker with her selection of BDU's and her now crumpled dress blues in her rush to change her uniform, Jac was rushing to the briefing room in her new BDU's, feeling woefully under prepared for the situation she'd been thrust into. She'd not yet really worked out how to play travelling off-world. How much skill and experience could she display before people began getting suspicious? How little of it before people started dying? Throwing the thought to the wind she breezed into the briefing room and grabbed an empty seat.

"Thank you for coming, Captain," remarked Landry. "I'll open by introducing the team for this mission and then outline what we know and the possible plans. Starting on my left is Colonel Munro from SG-15, Major Killian of SG-4, Lieutenant Jones of SG-9, Captain O'Neill who has been newly assigned to SG-1, Captain Goffrey of SG-15 and Lieutenant Sanderson of SG-7."

The seated personnel all nodded and greeted each other.

"SG-1 were off world on P2X-117 and failed to make the scheduled check in at 1400 hours. On dialling the gate, we received no telemetry from the MALP that had gone through prior to SG-1. A second MALP was dispatched and was destroyed shortly after arrival. From the limited footage that the MALP was able to send back prior to being attacked indicated a planet crawling with Jaf'fa.

"Our team in anthropology was to identify the Goa'uld from the Jaf'fa mark and we now know that we are dealing with Ba'al. Thanks to the first MALP, he will know we have a team on the planet and may well be hunting them right now. Secondly, he will be expecting a rescue team to be coming, which will make gating to '117 a hazardous start.

"Because of the limited teams not currently on downtime or off world I was unable to assign a single team to the rescue effort, hence the team of six at this table I've put together from available personnel."

Jac sent up a little prayer for the protection of Daniel, Sam and Teal'c and groaned inwardly at the realisation of why Landry had drafted her into the mission. He had to be desperate if he had chosen her for this.

"Munro will be leading the rescue with Killian as his second in command. You are all Air Force and have experience in the field so I expect you to work as a team without much effort.

"This will be purely a search and rescue operation. I don't want any heroics from any of you. Just find SG-1 and bring them home. You will gating in half an hour so you don't have long to prep for this. We will be sending several incendiary devices through the gate prior to yourselves, which will hopefully give you the time and space to leave the gate area unmolested. After that, however you will be on your own till you return. Any questions?"

No one had anything to say. Landry dismissed them and the six of them began making their way to the armoury and lockers in order to gear up for the mission. Jac could feel an icy knot forming in her stomach at the prospect of risking Ba'al's Jaf'fa in order to retrieve SG-1. But she knew that no matter how much she invested herself into this new life, she would always be willing to give her all for Jack's former team mates. She could do no less.

Throwing on her gear and rechecking her pack and P90, Jac surveyed her image in the locker room mirror. What looked back at her was an image that was very different to the times she had seen herself in the mirror while living with Sara and Michael. Then she had seen just her new age and new gender and the changes that they had wrought on her body. She had seen the sort of rounded softness that a woman carried with her. Now as she gazed at the dark haired woman in the mirror, loaded down with her battle gear, she saw a soldier and wondered at the contrast.

Surprised at this line of thought she recalled the times she had spent with Sam and realised that this was how Jack had seen the current CO of SG-1. Despite his feelings for her, he had never really seen the woman underneath the rank and wondered, briefly, if that was why Sam had looked elsewhere to find the things she needed to complete her life. Was that what it would be like for her too living as two different people, Jac the woman and Jac the soldier?

For Jack O'Neill there had been no division between man and warrior. That identity had allowed for no difference, which had probably been the root cause in the disintegration of his marriage to Sara. Sure, there had been a myriad of other problems and they had been drifting before Charlie had died, but Jac could look back and see he had quite often treated Sara as a subordinate rather than a wife. Treating things like his emotions as something that was need to know. It hadn't always been like that and with the old O'Neill charm, he had romanced her often, which was probably why the relationship has lasted as long as it had.

Despite the emotional pain involved in Sam's decision to start a relationship with Pete Shanahan, Jac could now look back and think that perhaps a relationship between Carter and her male self would have ended in disaster, Jack O'Neill was too scarred and unable to separate the man from the solider that was her CO. It wasn't something she wanted to dwell on in the face of the foolish dreams that had been nursed over the previous seven years, but Jac thought it might bring her some measure of comfort now that such a romantic relationship with Carter was completely out of the question since the events of P5X-878.

Nodding to herself in the mirror Jac up and left the locker room. She had five more minutes before she was due at the gate room for the rescue team's departure for '117. When she arrived, she found that, as with the briefing room meeting, she was the last of the assembled team to make an appearance. As she entered she thought she caught Jones and Sanderson sharing some comment about 'women taking forever to get ready when going out'. That was something that Jack would have sat on if he had been in charge, even if Carter had never been assigned to SG-1. But Jac wasn't CO or even second in command of the rescue effort, so she had to bite her tongue and hope that Munro or Killian would discipline the pair for the comment.

However neither of them did anything, appearing to dismiss the words as being of no concern, Munro instead keeping his eye on the rotating inner ring of the gate as the sixth chevron was locked into place. Moments later the final symbol was announced as being encoded and locked, the wormhole of the gate spilling outwards into existence. Six SF's took positions at the bottom of the ramp, three standing and three crouching, and all brandishing grenade launchers.

On Landry's order, the six fired, the grenades disappearing into the smooth blue event horizon of the gate. Thirty seconds later the General gave the go ahead and Munro and Killian led the team up the ramp and into the gate. Jac threw one final glance back at the gate room of the SGC and wondered just what waited for Jacqueline O'Neill on the other side of the wormhole.


	4. The Lady and the Jaf'fa

THANKS: A big thank you to Karen Joy who worked hard as my Beta on this chapter.

NOTES: \...\ denotes radio, L'masee pronounced Lee-Mar-Say

xxx

**FOUR: The Lady and the Jaf'fa **

P2X-117

November 22nd, 2004

1709 hrs

Sitting in the mouth of the cave, a few feet from Daniel and Teal'c, who were engaged in a quiet conversation, Sam pondered the current state of her team. Physically they were in potential danger should Ba'al's Jaf'fa get a hold of them, but it was a threat that they had all faced down before, and as such wasn't the primary problem SG-1 had the deal with.

To her mind, the biggest threat was from within, there were two issues that needed to be dealt with and they both involved the name O'Neill. On one hand, things needed to be settled with General Jack O'Neill. Rather than dealing with issues as they arose, especially her feelings for her commanding officer, she had instead dealt with her life as a series of boxes to be marked off. Her list of boxes was filled with things such as proving herself to her father, climbing the ranks, marrying, and having a family. Falling in love with her commanding officer hadn't been on that list, nor had been ignoring both the fact that it had happened and his reciprocation of those feelings in a vain attempt to stick to her list. Her conversations with Daniel and Pete had led her to question why she'd begun dating the police officer and her acceptance of the engagement. Looking back at her decisions, she could now see both as attempts to tick the boxes on her list.

Swallowing a sad laugh, she could almost hear Jack admonishing her with the old adage that 'no plan survives contact with the enemy' and her enemy was her heart, which she'd been trying to deny. Her attempts to follow her plan in a rigid fashion had led to her blinding herself with a series of illusions and damaging all that had been forged over seven years as a team by waltzing through her recent life in a Pete Shanahan-shaped bubble. The effect of which was the pushing of Jack further and further to the fringes of SG-1, which had in turn affected Teal'c and Daniel and their relationship with her.

The other O'Neill was a different set of potential problems. SG-1 had operated with someone other than the three of them and Jack before, so naturally the addition of a new member would not be such a large change. She knew, from how Jonas had interacted with them during his stint on SG-1, that the addition of Captain O'Neill would affect how the three originals interacted and how they might relate to Jack once they managed to find the opportunity to speak to him once more.

Even though she was enthusiastic about the young woman joining the team, she didn't know just how well the new team member would work with them, or even if she could be friends with her.

Then there was the fact that Jacqueline was an O'Neill, in fact, Jack's niece. Sam had the feeling that Daniel was feeling uncomfortable with the idea of Jac being on the team, although she couldn't tell if that was because he was resistant to the idea of anyone joining the team, or if it was because she was an O'Neill and that reminded the man about the friendship with Jack that had fallen apart.

Looking at where things currently stood, Sam felt that SG-1 was facing the same turbulence that her own personal life was in currently. While off world she couldn't solve her own problems, but perhaps talking through things with Teal'c and Daniel could lead to smoother waters when Jac finally joined the team. Standing and stretching her legs caused her to grab the attention of her teammates. Giving them an encouraging smile, she moved to sit next to them.

Xxx

While escaping the immediate area of the stargate had proven no real challenge for the cobbled together SG team, the grenades had already mostly cleared the way. The Jaf'fa still alive after that, were easy pickings in the engineered confusion. However, their subsequent movements had been hampered by regular and persistent Jaf'fa patrols. It obviously hadn't taken long for Ba'al's forces to regroup from the opening assault by the SGC, as within twenty minutes of clearing the gate the planet seemed to be crawling with Jaf'fa.

The six-member team had been forced to hunker down in a particularly dense and uncomfortable patch of forest, unable to move for fear of alerting a patrol to their position. All they could hear was the sharp and harsh breathing of their teammates sounding so loud that it might drown out the noise of approaching Jaf'fa. Munro and Killian had obviously worked out some sort of game plan, but Jac could tell that sitting in a copse of small, bushy, and closely packed trees wasn't part of the plan.

If she didn't know any better she would have thought this was just a simple search and rescue, something that SG teams had done hundreds of times before. Yet Jac had already pegged her CO and his second in command as being glory hunters. They were here for the kudos that bringing home the flagship team of SG-1 would give them. That worried Jac, because it meant that she had no real idea of how they would react if things got tough.

One of the few things that Jack had brought to the SGC, in her own mind, along with his unique sense of humour and diplomacy, was the Ranger motto of never leaving anyone behind during a mission. That attitude had quickly filtered down to most of the other SG teams during Hammond's time as CO, but Jac had the feeling that it wasn't something that Munro and Killian had taken to heart. That meant if the whole rescue attempt went south that the pair might just abandon, not only the rescue, but also the whole team to the care of Ba'al and his Jaf'fa.

Another crushing twenty minutes and Munro was fairly twitching. He gave a hand signal and the team was finally moving out, much to the worry of Jac. She wasn't so sure that the coast was yet clear and the pair of Lieutenants on the team appeared to have similar concerns about the situation. Jac had to bite her tongue, reminding herself that she wasn't the commanding officer of the team and that she had to follow orders, no matter how stupid. Although, she told herself, if this attempt to rescue three friends of her former self went to hell in a hand basket because of her commanding officers then she was definitely going to tell her CO where to go, going AWOL, and solo if need be in order to retrieve SG-1 safe and sound.

Having traded a series of hand signals with Killian, Munro lead the team out of the clump of trees and back into a half-blind run through enemy held territory, everybody clutching their P90s as if to lose them was to lose their lives. Jac reflected that, with the state of things on this planet, that might just prove to be true. As they moved silently through the open terrain of a clearing, a tactical error Jac noted idly, the only woman on the team looked up at the patch of sky currently visible in the oncoming twilight and noted the growing cloud formation.

The MALP telemetry prior to the loss of contact with SG-1 had indicated a storm the night before and predicted more over the coming weeks. This could only meant that the longer they spent on the planet the more likely it was that they going to get bogged down in awful weather. Cut off from the gate and no closer to locating SG-1 things could easily reach the point where the mission became a write-off and Munro pulled the plug. Jac figured that if that happened, then SG-1 might just not survive this mission.

Either SG-1 had to hole up somewhere that their radio mikes couldn't penetrate, or they were out of range, the team having tried to raise them straight after securing the gate area. According to what Jac had memorised of SG-1's original mission her own experience, and what she'd managed to teach Carter while CO as SG-1, the young woman guessed that the missing team would have camped either in or at least close to the ruins. The ruins were five clicks in the other direction and getting further away as Munro and Killian led them toward where the MALP had briefly picked up power emissions from a ha'tak prior to being destroyed. Her team leaders were going with the assumption that Ba'al had already captured SG-1 and Jac didn't like it. That assumption had a good chance of leaving them all dead.

Picturing her former team in her head, as the rescue squad slipped back into the murky woods and the growing evening sky vanished, Jac had the feeling that they would have left the ruins before the Jaf'fa got to them. Teal'c would have probably been the one that alerted them to the enemy, being the least likely to have his head in the sand playing with rocks. If they had decamped quickly enough then the foothills, and mountain range that grew out of them, to the east of the ruins would have provided a good place to find cover and to defend from. It would explain the loss of radio communications as well.

Jac shook her head. She was making assumptions, just as Munro and Killian had done. Only she had some idea of how SG-1 would have reacted, but there was no way she'd be able to explain that to her CO in a way that he'd trust her judgment. For now, she had to follow orders and hope that she could do what she could to keep the team together and alive should her guesses prove correct and the rescue team end up in trouble without ever helping SG-1.

Two more hours of hard walking proved to be very taxing on Jac's new body, despite her efforts to keep it fit and in shape while living with Sara and Michael. She was good enough to pass muster with Air Force regulations and those of the SGC, but under her own exacting standard, she was obviously still not where she wanted to be physically. That the team had remained on high alert for those two hours, fingers twitching on their P90s, had only added to the strain and Jac could see that Captain Goffrey and Lieutenant Jones were both feeling the burn like herself. Thankfully, Munro signalled a break when they came upon a small gully that provided a natural cul-de-sac for them.

O'Neill didn't remove her pack, figuring that it wasn't the effort when she'd only need to put it back on when they resumed walking again instead let it fall back against the rock wall of the gully, transferring its weight from her back to the stone. Goffrey slumped into a sitting position to her left, his long legs stretching out till they almost touched the water of the small running stream. Killian and Jones had taken up positions at the mouth of the cul-de-sac where Munro talked to Killian, and Lieutenant Sanderson, after a small pause, had decided to copy her and was standing to her right, his pack wedged up against the rock wall.

"First time off-world?" questioned Goffrey in a quiet voice.

Jac managed a nod, not trusting her voice while trying to get her breath back. It was better than having to lie over and over again anyway.

"Not even been off world with SG-1 then?"

Shaking her head Jac finally managed the dodge, "Only arrived at the SGC today."

"Well, rescuing them is a hell of a way to introduce yourself to your new team." Goffrey had a silly grin on his face.

"I'd rather not have to be meeting them under such circumstances if it is all the same to you," sighed Jac.

"How much further do you think?" asked Sanderson, joining the conversation.

"Three more clicks to go if we're still headed towards where the MALP figures Ba'al's ha'tak is," answered Jac, drawing a raised eyebrow of interest from Goffrey. "What? I paid attention in the mission briefing."

"Yeah, but I usually leave remembering that sort of detail to my CO. I'm busy enough keeping the civilians in line."

Jac huffed at that talk. She shouldn't have been surprised that Captain Goffrey had that attitude if he usually served under Colonel Munro. Would Carter have had the same attitude if he'd directed her to concentrate solely on her assigned tasks? Jac didn't like to think so, but then remembered how much she'd set out to prove herself to him in those first couple of years as CO and second-in-command. Goffrey was a reflection of his commanding officer, just as much as Sam was a reflection of what she'd learned under Jack O'Neill.

"So if this rescue mission goes to hell, and we lose Munro and Killian for whatever reason, you'll know where things are and what to do? You'll be in charge as the ranking officer."

Sanderson appeared to be taking this conversation to heart, his forehead furrowing as he processed what the female officer had said. Goffrey however scoffed at Jac's assertion. "You're a Captain too, O'Neill."

"You've been off-world before," she replied. "This is my first time through the gate."

"You're doing really well though," mused Sanderson from his position next to her.

"Huh?"

"You didn't hack your guts up after going through the gate. Even I lost my cookies the first time through."

"Oh," was all that Jac could manage in answer. Her reaction to gate travel wasn't something she'd even thought twice about and had stepped through the stargate just like she had always done. The battle with the Jaf'fa on the other side of the gate hadn't even given her time to consider her reaction.

xxx

It had taken Sam quite some time to work up the courage to reopen the discussion about the addition of Captain O'Neill to the SG-1 team line up. She'd been distracted by dinner, although he had to admit to herself that she had let herself become distracted. After all, it was not like the MREs they had to eat could really steal her attention the same way a well prepared, home made meal could. So, once dinner had been done away with, and the rotation of shifts for watch decided upon, Sam had sat down once more with Daniel and Teal'c and broached the subject of Jacqueline O'Neill.

"I can see your point," conceded Daniel after she had shared her own thoughts about the new team member. "You know the whole thing with Jack being gone has me on edge. Sorry again about the nightmares." His teammates waved them off as not a concern. "I don't like the idea of him sinking back into the depression he was in when I first met him, doing whatever the Air Force has him doing right now. I guess having his niece on the team just serves to remind me that he isn't here and that wherever he is he hasn't got us to cover his back."

"That is true," agreed Teal'c, also unhappy with the idea of being unable to help his warrior brother. "However, if CaptainO'Neill is anything like her uncle then she will be a formidable addition to SG-1."

"I guess," mumbled Daniel. "I can't promise anything, Sam, but I will at least try and make her feel welcome. Just prod me every now and then if it looks like I treating her badly, okay?"

Sam rewarded him with a grin. "I think I can manage that."

xxx

The team had abandoned the gully and the defendable cul-de-sac de sac after Munro had gotten edgy again about remaining in one spot. True to Jac's calculations, three clicks of further travel through the forest brought the six SGC members to the edge of an extremely large clearing, in the centre of which sat Ba'al's ha'tak. The base of the ship was constantly alive the movement of various Jaf'fa patrols, ring devices occasionally visible in operation.

In the deepening dark and growing chatter of the forest night life Munro signalled the team to draw close as they came to a halt on the far side of a small rise. All but Jac looked to Munro expectantly, although Sanderson didn't have the gaze of awe that he'd worn on the ramp to the stargate back in the gateroom. Although not paying full attention to her CO, Jac was aware enough to learn that Munro was splitting the team up, dividing them into a distraction maker and a rescue undertaker.

Major Killian was assigned as head of the distraction team, much to his evident annoyance. He had obviously hoped to be in on the team that rescued SG-1 from the Goa'uld. Jac found that Sanderson and she had been assigned to help Killian create a distraction for the Jaf'fa while Goffrey and Jones were to join Munro in penetrating the ha'tak and extracting the captured SGC personnel.

Despite still having reservations with the idea that SG-1 were even being held by Ba'al, Jac knew that disobeying orders only undermined the situation and made it more likely that people would be injured or killed. If it came to a point where she did have to defy her superiors in the field, she was going to damn well make sure that her decision didn't make things worse.

For now, she and Lieutenant Sanderson were to follow Killian along the edge of the clearing until they were opposite Munro's position where they would instigate a diversion at Munro's command. Checking her pack and weapons once more in the light of the probable firefight that she was going to end up in, she flashed Sanderson what she though was a reassuring smile and moved out along the rise after Killian who had taken point. Glancing quickly behind her she could make out Sanderson covering they're six as they broke away from the rest of the team and disappeared into the darkness.

It took the better part of three quarters of an hour for the three of them to complete the journey to the opposite side of the clearing perimeter, undertaken in complete silence and operating under the fear that at any given moment a Jaf'fa patrol would stumble upon them and ruin any chance at a rescue. With the area clear Killian signalled to Munro that they were in position by clicking the radio mike on his lapel. There was a double click back to indicate that Munro had understood and confirmed their readiness.

The three of them remain crouched on the cold dirt for another fifteen minutes as they waited for Munro to signal for the requested distraction. When they got the go, their distraction consisted of Killian lobbing a couple of grenades at the enemy while Jac and Sanderson attempted to demonstrate their marksmanship and night vision skills by picking off those Jaf'fa not immediately rendered a non-threat by the explosions. Jac snorted at the minimal amount of damage they were able to do, even if she had managed to pick of four Jaf'fa herself before their position was made.

At Killian's nod, the three of them turned tails and dashed into the forest that had been at their backs, crashing through the undergrowth like a herd of rhinos in the mating season. Jac just hoped that this plan of Munro's actually worked, because if it didn't there was a good chance that the three of them would be hunted throughout the night without pause. She was sure her two teammates were both good soldiers, but there was only so much strain and stress you could put on the human body before enough was enough and it forcibly brought you to a halt. Jac prayed that when that happened, it wasn't right when a Jaf'fa patrol found them.

In the distance behind them, she could hear the cries of the Jaf'fa as they fanned out into the bush in search of them, occasionally drowned out by Sanderson's heavy foot- falls as he continued to cover their six. Ahead, the figure of Major Killian flittered through the trees, his path ever so slightly beginning to curve back on itself and towards the gate. Jac wasn't so confident that they wouldn't encounter at least one patrol during their doubling back.

It was as the terrain became a little more rugged and sloped towards another, this time slightly shallower, gully that the Lieutenant at her back put a foot down awkwardly and came a stumbling crash as he dove face-first into the leaf covered floor of the forest. Jac immediately dropped into a roll, coming up facing in the opposite direction she had been running and moved to come level with the fallen airman to give him cover as he righted himself.

From behind her, she could hear Killian come to a halt and hiss out, "Leave him. We have to fall back towards the gate if we are to provide the cover Munro's team needs."

Jac didn't bother turning to look at her superior officer and scowled, as she knew it was a waste of effort and time in the murky light of the wood. "We don't leave anyone behind," she snarled as she dropped into a crouch by Sanderson and scanned the trees for Jaf'fa. They hadn't caught up with them yet, but it was only a matter of time.

"Can you move Airman?"

Sanderson was already pulling himself up onto his shaky feet, P90 at the ready, as he nodded in reply. "Yes, Ma'am," he whispered.

"Good, let's keep pulling back then."

The pair turned to continue following the Major only to find his shape missing from the twisted black mass of trees. Killian had obviously stuck to the plan and carried on without them, which didn't surprise Jac at all. If he'd been willing to leave Sanderson behind, then he would have no hesitancy at leaving her behind as well.

"Shit. Change of plan."

"Ma'am."

"Just follow me and keep quiet."

Sanderson nodded in agreement and was soon following Jac as she led him at a fair clip in the opposite direction that Killian had been taking them in. There was no point in trying to follow Major Killian now, as any attempt to follow him would just put them in danger. They were more likely to run into a Jaf'fa patrol hunting Killian than they were with one following them. For that reason, Jac had opted to take the other way to the stargate. That it took them towards the hills she felt SG-1 might have used as cover was just a secondary consideration that made the option more appealing.

Three quarters of an hour later, Jac and Sanderson paused for a few minutes in the cover of a large group of boulders that had come down from the foothills as part of a slip and merged to become a part of the forest.

"What's your name, Sanderson?"

"Ma'am?" queried the heavily breathing Lieutenant.

"Your name, Lieutenant, I assume you have one unless Lieutenant is your first name. It's not is it?"

"No, Ma'am," responded Sanderson, bestowing a grin on his superior officer. "It's Richard."

"Any nick name? Rich? Richie?" She paused for effect. "Dick?"

The Lieutenant ducked his head and muttered something.

"I didn't catch that," prompted Jac with a smile of amusement.

"I said my nickname is _Sandy_, Ma'am."

The commanding officer of the pair seemed to ponder that revelation for a moment or two before nodding her head as if agreeing with something. "I can live with _Sandy_," she proclaimed as if it was she who set the nicknames of the world. "It's much better than calling you _Dick_ all day."

Sanderson didn't quite know what to say to that, but was able to return the shit-eating grin she was giving him. The Captain was turning out to be something different to the generally quiet and diffident officer that he'd been introduced to during the mission briefing. He realised now, that he should have known otherwise given that General Landry had said she was being assigned to SG-1. After all, the rest of SG-1 were considered _nice but slightly insane_ by the rest of the base.

"Well Sandy, here's the deal. SG-1, Killian, and Munro's groups are out here somewhere. If we want to find them and get off this planet before Ba'al can sink his little hooks into any one of us, we need to find out where they are. And the best way to do that is?"

"Radio?" suggested Sanderson, tapping his radio mike for effect.

Jac shook her head. "Not a good idea. Our team tried that once when we got here and came up with nothing. If they weren't already doing so, that would have tipped the Jaf'fa off and they're bound to be monitoring the channels now just in case we're stupid enough to use them again. No, for this we're going to need first-hand information. We're going to have to bag ourselves a live Jaf'fa and get him to talk."

"Interrogate a Jaf'fa?"

The plan his new commanding officer had just given him would have made Sanderson laugh if he wasn't stuck on a planet crawling with Jaf'fa with only one person to cover his six. "We'll have to, if we want to know what is going on in this forest. We could just run back to the stargate as Major Killian has done, but I hold onto the idea that no one is left behind Lieutenant."

Jac would have explained a bit further, but at that point, both Sanderson's radio and her mike crackled into life, and the voice of Major Killian could be heard.

\Colonel Munro, this is Major Killian. Do you copy?\

"You were saying something about stupid, Captain?" asked Sanderson.

\I say again, this is Major Killian. Do you copy Colonel Munro?\

Sanderson was reaching for his mike to reply to his superior officer. Jac however snared his hand in mid movement and shook her head.

"That man has probably just allowed the Jaf'fa to triangulate his position. If he's lucky, they'll be noisy enough that he'll hear them coming and be able to get away. The Colonel's team is either smart enough to not reply and give away their own position, or they've been captured. Either way, we still need to learn from a Jaf'fa just what is going on."

\Colonel, the gate is swarming with Jaf'fa and —\

"Shit," muttered Jac.

Lieutenant Richard 'Sandy' Sanderson realised exactly what had happened and would have reacted in a similar manner to that of Jac's, had he thought he could get away with it. His second reaction was a sort of sudden paralysis with the cognition that Major Killian was more than likely to be dead at the hand of Ba'al's Jaf'fa. Part of him was saddened at the loss of life. Yet another part was almost ridiculously grateful at what had happened, having not taken a liking to the man after he'd upped and left him and Captain O'Neill to fend for themselves.

"With the way things are right now we're in real trouble, Lieutenant. If the gate is covered with Jaf'fa, like Killian's message suggests, then there is no way General Landry is going to send more SGC personnel through the stargate. Even if it is our flagship team SG-1 that's still missing."

The Lieutenant dropped his clammy and slightly pale hand away from his mike and managed to say with as much bravado as he could muster in such trying circumstances, "So let's go bag ourselves a Jaf'fa then, Ma'am."

Jac nodded sharply in agreement with the younger man. Patting her P90 lightly she scanned the area once more. She estimated that they were about twenty minutes from the clearing that held the ha'tak and about twenty-five from the stargate. What she and Sanderson needed was a Jaf'fa to interrogate. It was a better bet to nab one from near the ha'tak, since if things went wrong with Plan A (and they always did in Jac's book) then the pair of them had a shorter run for the cover offered by the hills than if they tried the same thing near the gate.

Outlining the bare bones of Plan A to Sanderson, the two of them changed tack once more. Moving away from the beginnings of the foothills, they worked through the murky night forest in a quest for a talkative Jaf'fa.

xxx

Sam and Daniel both came awake at the sensation of Teal'c shaking their shoulders and requesting they get up immediately. The pair went deeper into the cave about an hour ago, leaving the Jaf'fa to take the first watch that evening. Coming alert, they grabbed the closest weapons and hurried to join Teal'c at the top of the valley ridge, only a five-minute stumble in the moonlight from the cave they had been calling home for the night.

Passing a pair of binoculars to Carter, Teal'c pointed out the ha'tak compound on the opposite side of the valley the stargate stood in. She could make out the faint play of lights that indicated the discharge of staff weapons near the ha'tak.

"I believe that the SGC may be making an attempt to retrieve us," stated Teal'c.

"Yeah, well, that was what we were hoping for, right?" Daniel rubbed at his glasses to clean them, before looking through the binoculars himself.

"Indeed."

"So why are they attacking the ha'tak?"

"At a guess, Daniel, I'd say that the team was operating under the assumption that we'd been captured by Ba'al," said Sam. "We'll have to pack and go guys. If the SGC are here to bring us back, it would help if they can find us and they could always do with some added firepower."

At nods from the two men, the three hurried back to the cave and began packing up. Packed and the small fire extinguished, the team hiked back to the ridge and down the other side into the forest. Teal'c took the lead; Carter covered the rear as the Jaf'fa lead them in a slightly circuitous route toward the clearing with the ha'tak, one that would pass by the gate. In case an SG team held that area. SG-1 wanted to get as close as they could to the clearing without encountering a patrol and tipping off Ba'al they were there.

The moonlight parade was a silent and tense time, the sound of running and blasts from staff weapons becoming more pronounced at they grew closer to the gate. Moments later Teal'c signalled for them to halt and drop into a crouch, which the other two did immediately. In the vague light that filtered through the trees, they watched as a Jaf'fa patrol passed by, the body of a man strung between two pieces of wood and carried almost stretcher-like in the direction of the ha'tak.

The sounds of the firefight were gone, as the tramp of Jaf'fa feet faded into the background all the trio could hear was their own heavy breathing. Creeping as close to the clearing with the stargate as possible they could make out signs of a firefight and the movement of numerous Jaf'fa. Attempting to reach and dial the gate was currently not an option. Teal'c left them alone for fifteen minutes as he undertook a closer surveillance of the defence of the gate.

"At least four patrols currently occupy the gate area," the Jaf'fa explained quietly upon his return.

"According to the orders I heard being issued, they are aware of our presence on the planet, as well as that of another larger SG team, presumably sent by GeneralLandry to retrieve us."

"And the man we saw?" asked Daniel.

"One of the rescue team, the only one to have been found near the gate since their arrival today."

"So Ba'al's looking for us, as well as possibly others from the rescue effort."

"That is correct, ColonelCarter. From the talk of the First Prime who was organising the defence of the gate, a six-man team broke their original line of defence at the gate then disappeared into the forest. Since then, four of them have been captured alive during an attempt to infiltrate and then escape the ha'tak and given over to Ba'al for interrogation."

Daniel and Sam shared a wince at the idea of Ba'al's interrogation, the thought bringing back memories of the state that then Colonel O'Neill had been in after his escape from Ba'al's clutches.

"So we're going to have to rescue the rescuers, if we want to have enough firepower to try and make a break for the gate."

Teal'c inclined his head slightly in acknowledgement of Daniel's summary of the situation at hand. "We ourselves will need to enter Ba'al's fortress to retrieve the captives."

"And the other two still at large?" queried the archaeologist.

"We can't break radio silence for now, so we'll just have to keep an eye out for them," explained Sam, shaking her head at the mess the situation was currently in. "Hopefully they'll make a move for the gate at some point, and we can link up with them then."

"To the ha'tak then?" prompted Daniel.

Carter nodded grimly, indicating that Teal'c should once again take point so that he could lead them deeper into the enemy-controlled territory and toward the waiting ha'tak and the SGC personnel held prisoner by Ba'al.

November 23rd, 2004

0017 hrs

It took until they were almost upon the forest clearing the ha'tak sat in that Jac and Sanderson came upon a Jaf'fa patrol. Something they would have preferred to happen some greater distance from the clearing. Unlike off world SGC teams, Jaf'fa patrols tended to move in two columns, side by side, which helped emphasize their numbers to any enemy that could be possibly trailing them, and thus act as a sort of deterrent. This meant that instead of just one person covering the rear of the patrol, as with an SG team, there would be two, and that would make separating a single Jaf'fa from their unit twice as difficult.

In order to achieve their goal, Jac decided upon confusing a patrol. Leaving Richard to watch for Jaf'fa, she'd gone further down a forest path and rigged it with several small explosives. With this done, she signalled for Sanderson to take up his position behind a clump of bushes a little way down the path as she moved to her spot halfway between the Lieutenant and her planted explosives, crouching in the undergrowth in the opposite side of the path from Sanderson.

When a Jaf'fa patrol had finally made use of the faint path through the trees, she waited until the last few were in line with the explosives before detonating. The actual blasts weren't very big, but it was enough to cause the panic she'd been aiming for. At least a couple of Jaf'fa now lay stunned on the forest floor while the rest dropped into various firing poses, letting loose into the surrounding dark sweep of trees with random blasts from their staff weapons.

Pulling the pin from the grenade that she held in her hand, Jac lobbed the device some distance down the path in the opposite direction of the planned retreat she and Sanderson intended to make. The resulting explosion was enough to begin drawing the Jaf'fa patrol in that direction and to remove their attention from their fallen comrades. In the deep gloom Jac signalled Sanderson, and the pair met next to one of the stunned Jaf'fa. After stacking a staff weapon on top of the captured man and putting a hand under each arm, they gave one last scan of the path and began pulling the unconscious enemy soldier away into the deeper undergrowth.

It was slow going with the alien until Jac considered them far enough from the initial attack for them to switch positions so that Jac carried the Jaf'fa by the arms and Richard by the feet. Even with this change their progress through the darkly lit forest was not much faster than it originally had been. When they finally came upon the small densely populated grove of trees that grew in a sunken hollow where some form of small stream had once flowed, they gratefully dumped the still sleeping Jaf'fa onto the ground and snatched up their P90s once more. With Sanderson taking up a watch position to make sure that their temporary interrogation cell wasn't stumbled across by another patrol, Jac turned to cover the prisoner.

When the Jaf'fa failed to stir, Jac had to wonder if perhaps the blasts had managed to kill him rather than stun. A nudge to the feet with her own booted foot however provoked a pained murmur from the captured Jaf'fa, who opened his eyes to find the business end of a staff weapon almost grazing his nose. He looked up the length of the weapon at the shadow-shrouded figure that held it threateningly. The Jaf'fa made to snarl out something only to have the staff weapons power up, the tip splitting open.

"Answer my questions and I'll consider letting you live."

"Tau'ri —," began the Jaf'fa with a sneer.

Jac shoved the staff weapon hard against the Jaf'fa's cheek causing the alien to flinch and pull back against the cold ground. "What is the status of the other Tau'ri?"

Sanderson heard the Jaf'fa spit out something he didn't understand, guessing that it had to be Goa'uld he heard. The guttural words spilled out into the night, but carried only as far as where Sanderson stood watching the surrounding trees. That was a good sign, the Jaf'fa wouldn't be able to call for help and expect someone to hear him. As his eyes scanned the area around the dried streambed his gaze fell back on the Captain and the Jaf'fa just in time to witness Jac brutally slam the staff weapon into the Jaf'fa abdomen where the prim'ta would be.

There was a pained moan from their captive, and another string of syllables Sanderson pegged as Goa'uld. What surprised him however was the lilting female tone to these words and he realized that Captain O'Neill had switched to using Goa'uld to interrogate the Jaf'fa. Richard couldn't tell from where he stood, but assumed that the fallen enemy soldier had the same look of surprise on his face that Sanderson currently had on his own. The Captain was proving to be a huge box of surprises this night. Jac repeated her question for a third time, once more in Goa'uld. This time it got a more moderated response from the Jaf'fa.

Jac nodded at the information her captive had just revealed. It was nothing they didn't already know, which meant that the Jaf'fa was willing to play a longer game of cat and mouse with the information. Unfortunately, for Ba'al's Jaf'fa, O'Neill and Sanderson didn't have the time to refine and practice their interrogation techniques. Every minute wasted in the forest hollow was another minute that Ba'al had to torture and execute his prisoners. Jac pulled out her pistol with a free hand and shot the Jaf'fa in the thigh. The now wounded man clutched at the bleeding bullet-hole with both hands and glared up at the diminutive woman who still covered him with her staff weapon.

The Jaf'fa in question sucked in a deep, shuddering breath at the power the Tau'ri woman seemed to wield. She was nothing like any Tau'ri he had ever encountered before, male or female, there was something about her that instinctively told him that she was probably more of a warrior than he'd ever be. He did wonder at how this was possible, given how young she appeared to be. He wished to be able to see her eyes, because when he saw those he would truly know just how old she was. He needed to know more about her. "Tal shal mak."

"O'Neill." Jac rolled her eyes. She wanted information and the guy was asking for her name. What could he possibly want? A date? Jac blanched at that last thought, not willing to go anywhere near such a concept until she felt more comfortable about living out the rest of her life as a woman. Currently that would be about the time that Hell froze over for the Winter Olympics.

"L'masee," offered the Jaf'fa. She had identified herself as 'O'Neill'. While he had not been present at the time, L'masee was well acquainted with the male O'Neill who had withstood his god Ba'al's repeated torture sessions long enough to escape. If this O'Neill was anything like her male counterpart, he could begin to understand how the shol'va Teal'c of Chulak had turned against the fallen god Apophis. Was the traitor not a traitor, but a Jaf'fa who had found a more powerful god to serve?

"L'masee," repeated Jac, to which the Jaf'fa nodded. "Well, L'masee, I need to know what happened to the other Tau'ri on this planet. Does your god have them prisoner?"

With the staff weapon waved in his face L'masee responded in the affirmative, dropping into Goa'uld to illuminate Jac on the current state of affairs. Jac listened intently, trusting Sanderson to watch her six as the Jaf'fa L'masee outlined that Ba'al currently held the rest of their team onboard the ha'tak, but that SG-1 remained at liberty. Either way Jac knew that she and Sanderson had to approach the ha'tak. They could not afford to leave the other four behind with the gate as well guarded as it currently was. She let several possible plans run through her head, dismissing each one as soon as she had identified too many errors for it to proceed with any chance of success.

"Kel'ma," cursed Jac at the disappointing failure rate she'd factored for each rescue mission she had devised in her mind. She had to think, the rest of her team didn't have all day to sit around and wait. After several weeks at the hands of Ba'al, she knew just how short the Goa'uld's attention span was and back then, she had placed him in the same bracket as a four year old been tanked up on sugar. In other words, the four captive SGC personnel didn't have much time.

What then caught Jac by surprise were the words now tumbling from the lips of the Jaf'fa L'masee. He was talking fast, stumbling over some words in his effort to speak what he need to say. As her brain caught up with what the man was saying, she took an involuntary step back, which caused Sanderson to twitch in her direction. With her free hand she waved him back, trying frantically to process what had just been said by L'masee. Squaring her shoulders she stepped forward, this time right up to him so that the moonlight, that pierced the canopy of the forest, spilled across her features and allowed him to see her for the first time.

L'masee sucked in a deep breath as he took in the striking appearance of the god he had just pledged his allegiance to.

xxx

SG-1 managed to reach the ha'tak clearing with little resistance, able to pick off and subdue the few Jaf'fa that stumbled across them during their night-time run through the bush. They now unknowingly hid against the same bank Colonel Munro had chosen to stage his own infiltration of the ha'tak from, Daniel and Sam pressed up against the cold earth while Teal'c braved detection and made an assessment of the area and its defences. The combination of the moonlight on the open clearing and the lighting from the ship itself made the area very dangerous due to the heightened chance of being seen, but at the same time created dark and deep shadows which could provide excellent help in attempting to approach the craft.

Dropping back under cover and down, next to the two Tau'ri in his party, Teal'c outlined what he could make out in the two poor and contrasting lights. There was a ring device some distance to the southern end of the ha'tak that was heavily guarded and the area showed signs of recent battle, which suggested to the Jaf'fa that the ring device was probably the point where SG-1's rescue team had attempted to gain access to the ship. To the northern side of the craft was an operational service ramp that saw only half the traffic that the ring device was currently seeing and was lightly guarded. A changing of the guard had taken place during the time Teal'c had been observing meaning that if SG-1 mobilized on the ramp then they stood a good chance of not running into further guards.

Carter agreed to take a better look at using the ramp to board the vessel and the three of the time silently made their way along the edge of the clearing, ducking back and forth from the trees to the black shadows as they did so. Eventually they found themselves positioned against a tree and in a clump of thick undergrowth, the southern face of the ha'tak directly in front of them some two hundred metres away. Teal'c and Sam traded strategies for a few minutes, Daniel chipping in when he though he had something of value to contribute to the mission planning.

With no way to engineer a diversion and unwilling to split the team up for fear of letting more people fall into Ba'al's clutches, Carter opted for a frontal assault on the ramp in the hope of catching the limited guard on the hop. Attacking the ramp from an angle was the plan, so that if things fell apart they could merely alter their run slightly and quickly be running into the cover of the forest once more. Beyond that, the plan was simply to locate the prisoners and escape any way possible. If that meant that the assault on the ramp turned the mission into a firefight all the way, then so be it. If the ramp attack failed to spark further Jaf'fa action then the three of them would try to sneak through the craft in the direction of the cells.

Finally, on Sam's signal, the three of them rushed the ramp with Teal'c able to subdue the Jaf'fa guard with his zat weapon, three of them falling stunned to the floor of the clearing without a word. The fourth and final guard tried to raise the alarm but Sam had already run him down, sending him into the ground and leaping on him to knock him out with her fists. With time now of extreme value they elected to leave the Jaf'fa guard where they'd fallen and proceeded up the ramp without delay, delving into the maze of corridors that made up the lower decks of the ha'tak.

Teal'c led the way, more familiar with the layout and design of a Goa'uld ha'tak vessel, and Carter took to covering their six as the trio ran the corridors of the ship with indecent haste. The cells were four decks above the ramp by which they had entered and the route chosen by Teal'c was circuitous, designed to help them avoid as many of Ba'al's Jaf'fa as possible during their infiltration of the vessel. As it was, they still ran into Jaf'fa during their climb and were forced to take action, incapacitating half a dozen Jaf'fa in their rescue attempt.

Breaking out of the lift device onto the prison cell floor they surprised the two Jaf'fa currently posted on guard and began a frantic search of the various bays. Daniel was the first to find someone, locating Munro, Goffrey, and Jones all currently at loose ends together in one cell. They had nothing but their BDUs, having been stripped of all weaponry and other equipment upon their capture by Ba'al. By the looks of it, the Goa'uld had yet to engage in any torture sessions, apart from being a little hungry, thirsty, and tired they were all in reasonably good condition, which was a plus for their planned escape.

Carter made the grisly discovery in another cell of Major Killian's dead body. It was obviously that Ba'al had, at some point made a start on the Air Force officer, but had given up and opted not to have the Major revived with a sarcophagus. As it was they could not afford to even attempt taking the man's body with them, so Carter elected for Teal'c to dispose of the body with a couple of discharges from his zat weapon after removing the dead man's dog tags.

Handing out what little extra weapons SG-1 had on them to the three survivors of their rescue team, the six of them turned their minds to extracting themselves from the ha'tak before they were caught in the middle of their escape.

xxx

Sanderson wasn't quite sure what had gone on during the 'interrogation' of the Jaf'fa that Captain O'Neill was now referring to by name, but whatever it was he was sure that it didn't really fall under standard techniques. The captured Jaf'fa seemed in awe of the Air Force Captain, something that led Sanderson to speculate as to whether or not Jaf'fa could suffer from Stockholm Syndrome. L'masee had taken point after bandaging himself with the meagre medical supplies offered by O'Neill, leading them towards the clearing with the ha'tak and hopefully the rest of their rescue team.

From what Jac had bothered to relay to the Lieutenant who was currently covering her six, and that of the seemingly rebel Jaf'fa, was that SG-1 was not currently in the hands of Ba'al. That pleasure fell to the other four of their group, confirming the Captain's earlier speculations on both the fate of SG-1, Munro's team, and the cowardly Major Killian. That Killian was dead was something he had already considered after learning of his capture via the radio mikes. To have it confirmed that the man had been tortured and killed was something different altogether. Sanderson figured the only way it could possibly be worse would be if he were confronted with the body.

L'masee was leading them along the edge of the clearing towards what he had assured Jac was a more lightly guarded loading ramp that would allow them a better chance at getting onboard the ha'tak without being stopped. The woman was well aware that Lieutenant Sanderson was puzzled by the sudden relationship that had sprung up between herself and the Jaf'fa warrior she was following into combat. If she was to be bluntly honest with herself, something that Jac mused to herself as being one of the few things that she was good at, then she would have to count herself alongside Sanderson and admit that she didn't really have any idea at what was going on with L'masee.

Although it had some echoes of the time, as her former self, that she had won the help and eventual respect of Teal'c, what had taken place with L'masee had taken a leap into the twilight zone. Even with her somewhat imperfect Goa'uld, Jac knew that L'masee had acknowledged her as a goddess and declared his new allegiance to her. This made her somewhat jumpy for a couple of reasons. The first was that she was none too keen on being placed on a level with the Goa'uld, and then there was the consideration that once L'masee learnt that she wasn't a god he would possibly act out his disappointment and anger on her physically.

Somehow, she had to keep his loyalty for the duration of the mission, but convince him that she wasn't what he thought she was so that he could then go free. Join the Free Jaf'fa or something like that, because there was no way she could bring him back to the SGC with her. She could almost see Hank...no, _General Landry _throwing a fit at L'masee tagging along with her for the trip home. The Jaf'fa would be locked up as a prisoner immediately and she'd have to spend hours with the General explaining why she had brought home a stray on her very first mission. That would look so not good.

Her private musings were brought up short by L'masee suddenly tensing on the edge of the clearing, bringing herself level with him she could see why. A couple of Jaf'fa guards lay incapacitated by the loading ramp, not dead but clearly suffering from zat blasts. Jac gave a small grin as she pieced together what had probably happened and was heartened by the fact that SG-1 were still the formidable team that she had helped train them to be. Carter had led an assault to rescue the rescue team and Jac couldn't help wonder if the other woman wasn't feeling just a little bit smug about the whole situation.

In hushed, barked Goa'uld words, Jac informed L'masee whose handiwork he was now witness to and that it would be clear for them to approach the ha'tak. Appearing chastened, as if he clearly thought he should have known what had occurred despite no chance of ever knowing, L'masee gave a quick nod as Sanderson caught up with them, and the trio began to work their way across the hundred or so metres that separated the ramp from the edge of the clearing.

At the ramp, Jac pushed Sanderson to the head of the team, barking out, "Take point, Sanderson. I want a friendly face for SG-1 to see. If they see ol' L'masee here they're likely to get trigger-happy and blast him before we have time to stop them."

Swallowing how uncomfortable he felt at having the Jaf'fa at his rear where he couldn't keep an eye on him, Sanderson just nodded in response rather than have his voice betray the suspicion he held for L'masee. Leading the way down the first corridor with L'masee at his back at all times was an unnerving experience for the Lieutenant who was praying to a God he didn't believe in that the Captain had made the right choice in opting to trust the Jaf'fa. He also prayed that he wasn't about to end up face down on the floor with a staff weapon blast to his back.

With L'masee giving directions and without encountering any Jaf'fa, the three of them climbed to the next floor and dropped into covering positions as they secured the landing. Only moments later, as Sanderson turned his head to get the nod from Jac to move on, was the corridor suddenly lit with the blasts of weapons fire. Staff weapon blasts scorched the area, with the sound of P90s being discharged mixed into the cacophony of noise. From the darkness of the corridor came Jones, Jackson and Goffrey, who were running while those further up the corridor gave them cover. At Jac's nod, Sanderson moved a little way up the corridor from the landing, which allowed the three running men to catch sight of him.

Breaking into smiles of relief, they ran past him to the stairwell where they almost ran into L'masee and Jac. Weapons were almost automatically pointed at the large Jaf'fa man, but Jac waved them down and ordered them to keep moving and secure the landing on the floor below. Therefore they continued past with barely a nod and a smile, especially a huge grin from Daniel Jackson, and disappeared downstairs. By this stage Munro, Carter, and Teal'c had reached Sanderson whose appearance had obviously taken them by surprise. Luckily, for the Lieutenant they had spotted the SGC insignia and BDUs before opening fire. All four then began to pull back, firing down the narrow corridor to keep the advancing Jaf'fa at bay.

As they reached the stairs, they didn't really have time to take in Jac or L'masee as the firefight grew more vicious, L'masee earning a nod from Teal'c being the only exchange of greeting. With a little co-ordination, the six of them began to retreat down the stairwell to the lower landing. Jac pulled out a little C4 from a pocket and jammed a detonator into the mess of explosive as they ran untidily down the steps, fixing it to the stairs halfway down.

At the bottom, Teal'c and L'masee took the lead with their staff weapons and were guiding the now nine-strong team out of the ha'tak, with Jackson and Jones following them. A couple of steps behind them were Munro and Sanderson, which meant that Jac and Carter were taking up keeping the team's six clear. Something which Captain O'Neill started with a bang, detonating the charge she had set once the team were out of the immediate danger zone and Jaf'fa were clearly using the stairs. The resulting explosion worked better than the young woman had even dared to hope, not only killing several Jaf'fa and causing greater confusion in the ranks of those remaining, but it had filled the stairwell with debris. The force pursuing the SGC personnel had now effectively been split into two.

Less than half a dozen Jaf'fa had made it to the lower landing before Jac had bombed it and they were easily picked off in the aftermath by Colonel Carter and herself. With their immediate behind now clear of enemy forces the group of nine were able to make it to the ramp area and out into the clearing unmolested, fanning out into a semicircle at the bottom of the ramp to give themselves adequate cover. At Carter's nod Teal'c began leading them across the clearing, Munro moving up to help him as L'masee fell back to move alongside O'Neill. Jac was given a curious glance by the blonde woman before Carter headed forward to slip into step next to Daniel.

It was as they reached the perimeter of the clearing and prepared to enjoy the slight cover offered by the forests of P2X-117 that Jac caught sight of several Death Gliders being launched from the ha'tak and headed in the direction of the stargate. It was obvious now that Ba'al was not going to let them leave the planet without a fight. During the silent traverse of the forest, Jac considered all the options for dealing with the new threat of the Gliders and the large number of Jaf'fa she now anticipated would be guarding the gate clearing. They had a larger team now, and more firepower, but she didn't believe that they had what they needed to breach the gate defences and make their escape.

She was given a new set of options to deal with when, about three-quarters of the way to the stargate, the team was attacked by a Jaf'fa patrol that lucked upon them. The resulting skirmish led to one team of seven carrying on towards the gate, and Jac and L'masee who had been at the back of the group heading in a new direction that would see them entering the clearing from another direction. Reminding herself to try to follow protocol now that she was a Captain once more, Jac briefly raised her commanding officer Munro on the radio and let him know what had happened.

Instead of a response from Munro, she got one from Colonel Carter who was essentially the ranking officer on the planet as head of SG-1. Carter accepted that little could be done for now and charged the errant pair with making it to the gate clearing in one piece, cautioning her against doing anything 'heroic'. 'We've already lost one person to Ba'al today, we don't want to lose another', she snapped.

With a starched and ironed 'Yes, Ma'am', Jac cut communications and indicated for L'masee to continue following her, thankful that the Jaf'fa wasn't asking why they were taking a more circuitous route to the clearing than was needed.

xxx

Lt. Colonel Samantha Carter dropped angrily into a crouch behind a fallen tree trunk of some size. She had joined Teal'c and Colonel Munro, the rest of her team of seven coming up behind her to use the cover offered by the dead tree. She was angry at how things had been going over the last couple of months and the interruption to what should have been a simple mission was just the icing on the cake. Her better nature gently reminded herself that all things considered, the events of the last few hours were generally going better than could ever be expected. Two different SG teams had successfully penetrated Ba'al's ha'tak and, barring the death of Major Killian, which had been unpreventable, everyone had escaped without injury.

They had even seemingly gained a new Jaf'fa ally in the form of L'masee, although Carter wasn't really sure how much they could trust him. That he was now the only form of protection for Captain O'Neill only compounded the situation. Here she was, on what was essentially now her first mission through the gate with Jack's niece, and she wasn't even there to keep an eye on her. Instead, she'd given the younger woman permission to remain separated from the main group for some time longer with a turncoat Jaf'fa as her only support.

When she had first seen the Captain busy laying down covering fire from the upper landing of the stairs she hadn't really had time to notice much beyond the fact that she was female and wore an SGC uniform. It was once they had exited the ha'tak and were making their trek towards the stargate that she'd had the time to get a look at the second rescue team. Sanderson she recognised from SG-7, and L'masee was obviously a Jaf'fa, but she hadn't initially been able to place where she had seen the Captain before. Then it had clicked, and in her minds eye, she could picture the small photo clipped to the file she had read through in Landry's office.

She looked so much like a female version of Jack that Sam couldn't help but wonder if the younger woman acted anything like her missing former-CO. However, more immediate and practical things interrupted her train of thought.

"How much further to the gate, Teal'c?" questioned Daniel, looking particularly eager to get off the planet despite the archaeological ruins that still needed further investigation. It was simply amazing how the threat of death could get Daniel to stop fixating on his 'rocks' for a short time.

"We are not far now, DanielJackson. I am currently more concerned with the lack of Jaf'fa patrols this close to the gate. Ba'al knows this is where we will be heading."

"You want to know why the forest isn't crawling with Jaf'fa huh, big man?" interjected Munro with a slick grin.

Teal'c favoured the Colonel with a sour expression, which quickly dealt with grin without the use of words or violence, despite the larger man very much wishing to use both. He looked back at Daniel and continued, "Ba'al must have something planned if he is willing to let us get this close to the gate without being hindered."

Daniel glanced over at Sam and pointed to her radio mike. "Would Captain O'Neill have a better idea at what is up with Ba'al? She and L'masee might be able to see something different from their position."

"I wouldn't bother. Stupid bitch got Josh killed."

The three members of SG-1 all looked at Munro like he'd turned into something unpleasant and the other three team members who had been watching and listening to the discussion all went rigid.

"Care to explain?" spat out Carter through gritted teeth.

Munro swallowed uncomfortably at the glares he was receiving, but decided to go ahead and explain what he knew anyway. "Major Killian told me before he died, Ma'am. He gave her a direct order, which she ignored, and that resulted in his capture, torture, and death."

"That may be so, Colonel, but I think we could have done without the language, and anything that she may or may not have done can wait to be sorted out once where back home. Understood?"

The Colonel nodded smartly, but was seething at the dressing down he was getting from someone who was technically of a lower rank. He cursed again the day that General O'Neill let Carter take on the role of second in command for the SGC, and CO for SG-1. It was hopefully something General Landry would sort out before too long.

That dealt with, Carter activated her mike again. The previous radio silence was useless given that Ba'al knew they were there and exactly where they would be headed. "Captain O'Neill, do you copy?"

\Ma'am,\ came back the feminine voice from the speaker.

"We've had no encounters with any patrols so far, what is it like where you are?"

\Clear here, Ma'am. No sign of any Jaf'fa apart from ol' L'masee here.\

Daniel could almost picture his friend Jack at the other end of the line throwing a smirk at the Jaf'fa in question. The almost throaty female voice however ruined such an illusion.

"Do you have any idea why we haven't been attacked already, Captain?"

There was a pause before, \Sure Ma'am. Ba'al let loose a few Gliders. They're probably circling the gate as we speak.\

Samantha Carter cursed in such a manner that would have made her mother scold her severely had she still be alive. Such air cover would make it virtually impossible for anyone to reach the gate across the open terrain of the gate clearing and Ba'al was obviously not going to risk any Jaf'fa being killed accidentally by getting too close to the SG teams. She looked to Teal'c for ideas.

"We will need to draw away the Gliders before we make an attempt to dial the gate, ColonelCarter."

She was about to ask for ideas on how to do that we her mike activated again. \Ma'am? Do you copy?\

"Carter here, Captain. Go ahead." Sam let the button go and waited for the message.

\L'masee here is telling me that Ba'al's been keen to secure this planet on the basis of the ruins that Doctor Jackson was investigating. To that end, he brought in some big mounted guns in order to defend the gate from any other System Lords.\

"Big guns, Captain?" queried Carter. This woman had obviously spent some time in her Uncle's company for her to talk in such a manner. Or perhaps it was genetic?

\Yes, Ma'am. One of them is on a small rise only a short distance from our position. If we take it, we'll have a means of incapacitating the Gliders long enough for someone to dial home.\

The Lt. Colonel pondered the suggestion. "Anyone got a better plan?" she asked of the other six people with her, only to get a series of headshakes. She brought the mike back to her mouth and gripped the button tightly. "Captain?"

\Ma'am?\

"We're going to go with your suggestion. I want you and L'masee to secure the mounted gun and await my order to open fire on the Gliders. Understood?"

\Yes, Ma'am. Understood. O'Neill out.\

xxx

Jac slipped her radio mike back into the backpack pocket it came from and tucked the Velcro cover tightly shut to secure it in place. She nodded to L'masee and gave him permission to begin leading her towards the weapon installation. The pair made good time, Jac figuring that they had arrived near the gun some fifteen minutes ahead of the others reaching the clearing with the stargate. She knew that this was going to be a tricky manoeuvre to pull off because once she and L'masee abandoned the mounted gun to make their run for the gate, the Gliders would not longer be distracted by the weapons fire and be able to once more pick off people attempting to reach the gate.

In her not so eloquent Goa'uld Jac organised for L'masee to simply walk into the installation and render the Jaf'fa there 'no longer a problem'. She had phrased that part thus so that L'masee had some flexibility with choosing how to deal with his former brothers in arms. Several of Ba'al Jaf'fa might end up dead, but Jac wasn't going to worry about that fact and it was going to simply something that L'masee could go through with or not. If it came down to 'not' she hoped that he wouldn't turn on her if she was forced to put the enemy down forcefully. She simply did not need the renegade Jaf'fa deciding to stopping following her at that awkward moment of penetrating an enemy installation.

When she was as close as she dared get to where the weapon was arrayed she nodded for L'masee to carry on, stopping him long enough to point out where he could signal 'all clear'. In the end, it took only seven minutes for L'masee's signal to be seen from the upper area of the installation that she had pointed out to him. With the all clear given Jac O'Neill approached the temporary building, constantly alert for signs that not all the Jaf'fa in the area had been neutralised. However it seemed that her new Jaf'fa 'pal' had done thorough work, bodies of dead Jaf'fa lining the corridors as she ventured deeper into the building.

Eventually she reached the top floor, which was an open deck, the weapon itself mounted in the centre and the clearing with the stargate clearly visible. The small tower reached perhaps one story above the treetops, aided greatly by the small hill that it sat upon and from here, Jac would have a perfect 360-degree view of the immediate area. Some distance away she could see several Gliders circling the stargate clearing like vultures waiting for their next meal to expire before descending to feed.

Jac congratulated what she guessed, for now, was her Jaf'fa retainer. It was quite a different experience, compared to the relationship she shared with Teal'c. She figured that perhaps that might be because of the relative ages of the two Jaf'fa. L'masee was clearly nowhere near as old as Teal'c had been when he'd signed up to the Tau'ri cause. Instead of a battle hardened First Prime who was willing to disagree with him and saw nothing but the simple man that had been Jack O'Neill, Jac had a much younger junior Jaf'fa who clearly thought of her as akin to the god he had served for all of his life.

Slipping into the harness-like seat at the lower end of the gun Jac familiarised herself with the controls before radioing Carter to explain that she and L'masee were in position and ready to go as ordered. With confirmation of her message received from Carter, she sighed and relaxed back in the seat, turning her head to look at L'masee who was looking out across the forest, staff weapon still gripped in one hand. Glancing at his thigh she could see that the bullet wound she'd given him was healing nicely under the bandage from her medical kit.

The larger man caught her eye, and where she was looking, and assured her, just as Teal'c had once done many times, that he was perfectly fine that the wound no longer bothered him. With some time to kill she tried to engage the man in conversation by asking him what he knew of Ba'al's plans for the ruins that had so fascinated Daniel. From the halting, stumbling reply she got she realised that the young Jaf'fa did not have much idea of what Ba'al was hoping to find or do with the ruins, suffice to say that one word had cropped up time and again: hok'taur.

Jac closed her eyes. They had known that Ba'al had managed to acquire much of Anubis' holdings after the half-ascended System Lord had been blown away by the Ancient's chair in Antarctica. Ba'al obviously felt that there was something here that could help him revive Anubis' plans of an army of super warriors, or go much further beyond what had already been achieved. She shuddered at the thought of Ba'al commanding armies of soldiers so much harder to kill than the Kull warriors fashioned by Anubis. Either way Ba'al was up to something, and she would have to recommend during the debriefing that steps be taken to ascertain just what his plans were. And then stop them.

A couple of bleeps form her radio mike startled her into action, her eyes opening and her hands reaching for the controls of the weapon. That had been Carter's signal, which meant that the seven down in the forest were now going to attempt reaching the stargate. Looking to her watch, she counted off a minute and then zeroed the sights in on the slowly moving Death Gliders. Seconds later one of the Gliders broke from the lazy orbit and she knew that Carter and the others had been spotted. Lining up the mounted gun, she picked out the diving craft and pulled the trigger.

She could hear the muted roar as the Jaf'fa ship exploded in a ball of fire, debris scattered across a wide area. Eyes widening at the thought of the team being flattened by falling bits of dead Jaf'fa and Glider, Jac elected to blast the other ships before they were over the stargate clearing. Before the enemy vessels could come around and deal with her, she lined up a second Glider and let the weapon do its work. This time she had only winged the ship, but it was enough to send it spiralling away from where the stargate was and crashing into the dense forest. This left three more Gliders in the sky, two of which were moving very fast and low towards the SG team. The third had swung round and was approaching on her position.

Faced with the choice, she yelled for L'masee to leave the small tower and head for the stargate as she opened fire on the two vessels hunting for those in the clearing. The Jaf'fa did as she ordered immediately, disappearing into the lower levels as her shots managed to upset the diving fighters. The pair slammed together at high speed and caught on fire, ploughing into the clearing away from the stargate. She could see the tiny figures of the team in their BDU's reaching the gate and the inner ring beginning to move. It was now her turn to flee the building and run for the gate. That however was the moment that the weapons fire from the third Glider struck the temporary tower and blew the flimsy structure into a million pieces.


	5. Questions Must be Asked

THANKS: A big thank you to Karen Joy who worked hard as my Beta on this chapter.

**FIVE: Questions Must be Asked**

P2X-117

November 23rd, 2004

0159 hrs

Daniel was already at the DHD, furiously punching in the address for Cimmeria, as the rest of the group gathered around him, weapons at the ready. The inner ring spun in response as the group watched as the remaining Glider blew the mounted weapon, and the tower it sat upon, into little pieces. Carter offered up a prayer that the young Captain O'Neill managed to escape before the destruction of the tower, while Teal'c did the same for the potential Free Jaf'fa recruit L'masee. Jones and Goffrey exchanged glances at the possible death of the woman Munro had accused of letting Major Killian die.

The fifth chevron locked into place, Munro and Sanderson keeping an eye on the two fallen Gliders that lay half-buried in the ground across from the group and gate at the other end of the clearing. The last thing they needed was for one of the pilots to have survived the crash, and to emerge from the twisted mess of metal and attempt to attack them. Meanwhile, the smoke for the burning vessels floated across the clearing as the wind moved, temporarily blotting out the SG team's view of the Glider that had destroyed the mounted weapon.

With the reassuring clunk of the seventh and final chevron, the wormhole exploded outward from the metal ring and quickly stabilised. Then Daniel realised that travelling to Chimera wouldn't be good for the health of L'masee, but it was too late to attempt dialling a different gate address. Captain Goffrey and Teal'c were the first to retreat through the gate, followed by Lieutenant Jones and Colonel Munro. As the thick smoke began to clear a little, the surviving enemy Glider was seen once more, coming about and advancing on their exposed position.

"Captain O'Neill, do you copy?" tried Carter on her radio mike. A hiss of static greeted her. "O'Neill, do you copy?" Again, there was nothing but static, which was not reassuring for the three standing on the gate ramp.

"What do we do about Captain O'Neill and the Jaf'fa?" asked Sanderson as he made ready his P90. He was half hoping that the Lt. Colonel would recommend that L'masee be left behind, especially since Dr. Jackson had dialled Cimmeria.

Carter looked to Daniel who shrugged as he certainly felt he wasn't up to making the decision. For Carter, the reality of the situation was simply that they had no way to hold the stargate for any extended length of time. If O'Neill and L'masee couldn't make it to the gate immediately then the Lt. Colonel had no choice but to abandon them, temporarily, to their own devices. After that, either the missing pair made it to the Alpha site under their own steam, or SG-1 came back as soon as possible with a bigger team.

Then time ran out as the Glider began a run at the gate. "We have to pull out now, Daniel," she said and nodded for Sanderson to retreat through the gate himself as the Glider opened fire. As the blue water-like substance absorbed the Lieutenant, Carter snagged Daniel's arm and began pulling him towards the event horizon of the wormhole.

"Sam, we can't just leave Jack's niece on the same planet as Ba'al. He'd never forgive us!"

The woman gave Daniel another much harder tug, "And he'd never forgive us if we get ourselves killed trying to rescue her! We have to leave now, Daniel! I promise that as soon as we can we'll come back for her. Remember, no one get left behind!"

With that, Sam pushed the archaeologist through the gate and dove after him as the Glider weapons blast began hitting the stargate ramp. She came blasting out the other side at Cimmeria, the wormhole disengaging after a few stray blasts came rocketing through. She quickly took in the forms of the others that had made it off '117, noting with some satisfaction that none of them was hurt. Then Daniel was moving and arranging for the gate to dial home, already pushing to return to '117 and extract the currently trapped Captain O'Neill and the Jaf'fa rebel L'masee.

xxx

There was a dull echoing roar in her ears as she regained consciousness, something that Jac recognised, from repeated exposure, as a concussion. Rolling slowly onto her back she tried to size up her current situation, but was immediately distracted by the pain lancing across her back. Moving back onto her stomach she struggled into a kneeling position and gingerly reached back with one hand to touch her back. She wrenched it back at the first burst of new pain to be confronted with blood-covered fingertips. The debris from the exploding tower had obviously done some damage to her back.

Forcing herself to ignore the throbbing rawness of her back, she grasped her radio mike and tried to contact the other SGC members. When no reply was received after several attempts she checked her watch to find that she had been out of it for roughly a quarter of an hour. There would have been no way that SG-1 and the others could have held the gate for that length of time with one surviving glider still on the prowl. For Jac this meant that she would have to tough it out here on the planet until she could either dial the gate herself, or the SGC sent through a rescue team.

With the gate now dismissed as her most important consideration, Jac gritted her teeth and focused on the next problem. Where was the Jaf'fa L'masee? Looking about, O'Neill got the feeling that she'd been thrown some distance from the top of the exploding tower. L'masee would have been further down the structure, if not outside of it, when the glider had destroyed it and so would naturally be closer to the site of destruction. If she was going to find him then she had to head in that direction. The problem with that would be all the Jaf'fa patrols attracted by the explosion.

She hadn't been wearing her pack when the glider had struck, leaving her without any form of medical kit with which to tend her wounds. Grunting with the effort she tore strips of cloth from the arms of her BDUs and tied them into a long bandage which she wound around her torso in a vain attempt to wrap her back, which she figured, was her most pressing injury at this stage. Once that was accomplished, Jac crawled to the closest tree and began to get herself upright, fighting the urge of the concussion to fall asleep as she did so. Standing upright caused her back to spasm with pain, but on top of that, she discovered that her left leg was without doubt broken.

While it wasn't the thighbone that was damaged, the loss of mobility was going to make any attempt to remain out of the hands of Ba'al's Jaf'fa twice as difficult, if not downright impossible. Hobbling to a smaller tree Jac spent an exhausting twenty minutes breaking several branches that she then used, along with further strips of cloth from her uniform, to splint her leg and to fashion a crutch. She had almost lost consciousness several times during the effort, feeling the beginnings of shock settling in. While she had the memories of an experienced Black Ops Air Force officer, her body was effectively only about two months old and definitely wasn't used to the punishment that her old body would had been able to soak up like a sponge.

Working herself up on her crudely made crutch, Jac checked what she had in the way of defence. She still had her service pistol that was at her hip and the P90 that she's had hanging around her neck by its strap had by some stroke of luck not fallen loose when she'd been thrown from the weapons platform. Everything else had been lost along with her backpack and she made a mental note to steal a zat if the opportunity arose. There was no way that she was going to be stuck on the planet without a weapon that didn't require ammunition. With the P90 now grasped in her clammy right hand and her left holding onto the crutch, the USAF Captain began to hobble slowly in the direction she believed the remains of the tower to be.

Jac's progress through the undergrowth of the forest was painfully slowly by every definition, the gloomy forest innards only made even more confusing and disorientating thanks to her concussion and the massive migraine that had now blossomed inside her skull. The constant plod and jarring effect of the crutch served only to magnify the headache to epic proportions, forcing her to take periodic rests to try to ease the throbbing behind her eyes. The night air was also now starting to tell on her body with her barely decent top, the victim of an explosion and medical necessity, doing nothing to ward off the cold. Jac was now beginning to worry that if the Jaf'fa in the forest didn't get to her first, then the cold, her injuries, and the shock would finish her off anyway.

Half an hour later Jac was having trouble feeling her fingers and toes, especially those on her broken leg. If a Jaf'fa surprised her now she wondered if she'd even be able to pull the trigger on her weapon, given how numb her fingers felt. Trying to camp without any form of shelter or means of making fire at hand would possibly finish her off. Jac had survival skills that could allow her to do both without the modern conveniences of tents and lighters, but to do so would tax her concentration and just invite discovery by the enemy. If she could not stop, then her best option was to strike it lucky a second time and retrieve something useable from the wreckage of the tower.

It was as she stumbled and fell for the first time onto the floor of the forest, thanks to her frozen feet, that Jac's luck finally ran out. While she had managed to avoid Ba'al's Jaf'fa so far, she had not even begun to pick herself up from the painful heap she had fallen into when several of the enemy happened upon her. She had only gotten as far as poking her head up when her concussion was upgraded to severe concussion by the butt of a staff weapon connecting with the back of her head, swamping her vision with shades of grey until the bliss of sleep took her.

xxx

The bliss of ignorance can only last so long, mused Jac, after she had regained consciousness to find herself in a familiar looking cell. Glancing up at what seemed like a glass roof, Jac howled in agony as her head protested quite vigourously. If she had been standing Jac figured she would have toppled over, but as it was, she was already on what passed for the floor and was grateful for that fact. Moving very slowly, to not upset the competing pains in her head, Jac sized up her situation. She had been stripped of her crutch, an item that would make any escape somewhat more difficult, but had been left with her jury-rigged splint still in place.

Sinking back onto the floor and lying on her back, she stared up at the glass ceiling, watching the occasional figure move past the glass like it was a movie screen rather than the door to the cell. The floor was rough under her, rubbing at her tender back and causing all sorts of new agonies for her. She reflected that the floor hadn't felt this rough the last time she'd been held like this by Ba'al and wondered if it was the same ha'tak or a completely different one. That thought only served to stir up other memories of her time in Ba'al's hands and she could feel her body shiver through a combination of shock, the cold, and what her near future was going to be like should the Goa'uld wish to 'interrogate' his new prisoner.

Jac raised her hands into view and took in the pale colour, judging them to be an accurate refection of how her face probably looked. For the first time she wondered if her back injuries had been more serious than the simple lacerations she had originally pegged them. Had she been loosing blood the whole time she had trekked through the forest? She wanted to be able to roll over and check the floor of the cell to see if any blood was seeping through the makeshift bandages, but the threat of her head revolting once more halted her from acting on the desire. Her leg was really beginning to ache now and if the tightness of the pant leg was any indication, then it had begun to swell.

Jac tested the knee of her left leg by trying to fold it up as if she was going to do some crunches. She could only fold it a little way before her muscles began to protest and spasm, forcing her to straighten the limb once more. 'Great', she thought with a little heat, she'd had her new knees for only two months and there was the chance that she had already stuffed one of them. With little else to do, she began to stroke her clammy hands over the parts of her body she could reach, checking for other possible damage that she had missed in the forest. Her fingers came away from her forehead and hair with more blood, which suggested a head injury on top of the headache and concussion.

Last time she'd been in this position with Ba'al, he had kindly dumped her in a sarcophagus before throwing her into a cell, meaning that boredom had been her only problem while being imprisoned. Now she had to deal with all the painful injuries she'd managed to collect since the platform had exploded with fire. That she had not been healed and Major Killian had died during an interrogation suggested that perhaps on this particular ha'tak there was no sarcophagus. Despite the soul-destroying powers of the device, something Jac had already lost too much to, the idea of dying for good, after having only just gained a new life to live did not sit well with the new and reborn Jac.

Since there was now a good chance that she would die here at the hands of Ba'al, she had to find a means of escape as soon as possible. Her previous imprisonment had came to an end due to an attack on Ba'al's ha'tak by the Goa'uld Lord Yu, an action precipitated by her team SG-1. This time around she would not be able to rely on the same thing happening and she did not have an ascended Daniel on hand as a personal cheerleader/motivator. Her two options were: learn of the existence of a possible Tok'Ra plant and gain their help in escaping, something Jac figured was a long shot as the Tok'Ra weren't likely to blow an undercover assignment to help an SGC member, or to manage some kind of escape on her own.

"Crap," the young woman mumbled to the glass ceiling, "I am _so_ screwed."

SGC

0337 hrs

The return to the SGC after Cimmeria was a muted and muddled. The adrenaline of escaping from Ba'al had worn off while on Cimmeria, and the briefing after the medical checks were completed was a stilted, prolonged affair. It had taken time for the individuals to report their actions on P2X-117, beginning with SG-1 and their non-return that had prompted the rescue in the first place. Landry had on many occasions brought the narrative to a halt in order to ask questions to clarify his understanding of how events played out.

Carter would have been able to handle that if that was all that had happened during the debriefing. Instead Munro had taken it upon himself to voice the same disapproval of Captain O'Neill as he had planetside, taking the opportunity to 'sort it out at home' as Carter had suggested. This had done much to fudge the debriefing, bringing the retelling of events to a grinding halt before they had reached why O'Neill hadn't been a part of the returning party. Thankfully for her blood pressure, and Daniel's if the expression on his face was anything to go by, Landry put the topic of the Captain's possible insubordination on the back burner and refocused the debriefing on what happened next.

It was at that point that Landry put through a call to Harriman to dial up '117 and send a MALP through in order to see if a search and rescue for the missing Captain was at all feasible. While that was taking place the General kept the large group at the table fixed on giving him the details that he needed to know, ending with their return via Cimmeria. Here Landry ordered a break in the session and disappeared to the control room to check on the MALP and be there for another SG unit that was due back shortly. This left the seven of them with little to do, Carter and Munro trading dirty looks with each other until Daniel tapped her on the shoulder to distract her.

"Sam, don't wind yourself up over Munro."

"But he's making Jack's niece sound like a hazard to the mission," protested Carter with a slight whine which Daniel didn't find cute.

"She may well have been," replied Daniel, hastily holding his hand up to stop Sam from commenting. "I'm just saying that she's Jack's niece and so there is a good chance that on occasion she doesn't follow orders just as we well know Jack has done in the past."

Sam seemed to slump a little at that thought. "But," pressed on the archaeologist, "I'm more inclined to believe that this is all about sour grapes on Munro's part for not getting second-in-command after Jack became CO around here. In fact, this is probably an attempt to grease up to Landry should the new General decide to shake things up in the command structure."

"I concur with your assessment, DanielJackson," chipped in Teal'c from his seat on this other side of Sam.

"So what happens now?" asked Daniel.

"That depends on what GeneralLandry decides." The Jaf'fa was completely calm on the outside, but he too was concerned for the well-being of O'Neill's niece.

"If the MALP shows the gate to be clear, then we rescue the Captain," stated Sam emphatically as if brooking no dissension from Daniel or Teal'c on the matter.

"And if the gate is not a viable option?" prodded the Jaf'fa in even tones.

"Then," stated Sam with determination, "We find another way to rescue her. I'll contact my father and see if the Tok'Ra are willing to help."

"Thor may be willing to help as well," said Daniel grinning. "After all, she's the niece of his 'favorite' human."

The three of them sat in silence after that, thinking about the missing General O'Neill.

"Have you heard anything more from Barrett?" pressed Daniel after the pause, wishing to learn, as Teal'c did, just what had happened to their ex-team mate.

Sam shook her head sadly. "He's not made any attempt to contact me since that first meeting."

Daniel balled one hand up into a fist and thumped it against the tabletop, drawing the attention of the SGC personnel who were waiting. After an awkward moment or two, he waved them off and they went back to their conversations while waiting for General Landry to return.

"Daniel?"

"When he does show his face, I want to ask him about Captain O'Neill, Sam."

"Because?"

"As I told you, Sam, when Jack told me of his family he never mentioned any siblings that could have given him a niece."

Teal'c cocked his head at this idea and his brow knitted into a frown. "Are you suggesting that O'Neill is not who she and others claim her to be?"

"Yes...no. Maybe. Look, something is not right with whatever has happened to Jack and I just have the feeling that it has something to do with the newly arrived Captain. Call it Ascended intuition or something." Daniel stared at his teammates earnestly in an attempt to convince them that his feelings on the matter were based on something more than just a tickle between his shoulder blades.

"Well, if she's not who she claims to be," said Sam, "Why is she here and what could she possibly get from pretending to be Jack's niece?"

The three of them were stumped by that particular question, which was just as well since General Landry had chosen that moment to re-enter the briefing room.

"Sir?" queried Munro.

"I'm afraid that an attempt to rescue Captain O'Neill from '117 is currently a no-go. The MALP we sent through was once again destroyed by heavy Jaf'fa fire, meaning that Ba'al has the gate locked down tighter than before."

"General, with your permission, I'd like to contact the Tok'Ra to see if they are willing to help in a potential rescue mission."

"Colonel, I know you'd like to go back there right away and rescue the Captain. Hell, if I could I'd come too, but it is just not possible for now. We'll be sending another MALP through in twenty-four hours time to see if the situation has changed. Till then you are all off duty. Dismissed."

Munro, Goffrey and Jones all departed the room, following General Landry in his wake. As the door swung shut Sam could hear Munro trying to grease up to Landry once more and ground her teeth in irritation, hoping that the General saw right through the Colonel and thus wouldn't give the thrice-damned man an inch. Sanderson shifted seats to be closer to SG-1 who had opted to remain behind after the debriefing. The archaeologist looked up at the young Lieutenant and gave him a smile, remembering how welcome the man's face had been when he'd seen him during the escape from the ha'tak.

"What's this Tok'Ra plan?" asked Sanderson, evidently keen to help rescue the missing Captain.

Carter sighed. "I was hoping that since the gate was not an option for approaching '117, that we might be able to hitch a ride on a Tok'Ra vessel."

"And Landry shot that down," said Daniel. "He's following protocol to the letter."

"True," acknowledged the Jaf'fa. "However, the twenty-four hours we must wait may be time that the young O'Neill does not have. After all, Ba'al does not follow protocol."

The three 'old hands' looked at the Lieutenant, studying him carefully. Sanderson shrugged his shoulders unhelpfully.

"Do you think it is possible that the Jaf'fa betrayed Captain O'Neill?" asked Sam of the three others. "I don't feel too happy with myself about letting her go after the Gliders with only the Jaf'fa as backup—no offence Teal'c."

The Jaf'fa inclined his head to show no offence was taken.

"I don't think so, Ma'am," offered Richard. "I don't know what the two said to each other, but what ever it was it was enough to convince L'masee to turn his back on the Goa'uld."

"Teal'c?" prompted Daniel, wanting the Jaf'fa's opinion of the situation.

"I would have to agree with LieutenantSanderson, L'masee did indeed appear to be loyal to O'Neill."

"I don't get that," cried Sam. "How on earth can he just switch sides like that?"

"Is that not effectively what I myself did as First Prime of Apophis when we originally met?"

That brought Sam up short and helped her feel a little more at ease at the idea of sending O'Neill off with just the Jaf'fa at her six. Even if L'masee was only half an amazing revelation as Teal'c had turned out to be, it was more than good enough. Sam gave Teal'c a small smile to show her thanks at his salving her conscience.

"Well," began Daniel, "Since we've got to wait a day before Landry will consider a rescue attempt, I plan on doing a little research."

Teal'c raised an eyebrow. "I too have research I must undertake," he said, recalling his decision to investigate the mission of SG-5 in the weeks prior to their death.

"I'm going to try and get in touch with Agent Barrett, see if anything new has turned up." Saying that, Carter stood and the three men copied her.

"I'm gonna hit the hay," stated Sanderson, not wanting to feel left out of the loop.

Daniel began walking to the door, followed by Teal'c, and the pair made their good-byes before disappearing down the corridor to begin their self-appointed tasks. Sam favoured Sanderson with a glance.

"I just want to say, Ma'am that you've got a hell of a new team member in Captain O'Neill and should you get the go to rescue her, I'd like to be in on it."

"Those are kind words, Lieutenant, I'm sure the Captain will appreciate the flattery. I'll be sure to let you know what will be happening in twenty-four hours time."

Sanderson nodded his head slightly and gave Carter a short salute. "Thank you, Ma'am. I wouldn't feel good about myself if I at least didn't try to repay the favour she gave me on '117."

Sam smiled. "Yes, it seems, like her uncle, that she's taken that Ranger motto to heart. Never leave anyone behind."

With another short salute, Sanderson took leave of the Lt. Colonel and left the briefing room, Carter now alone with her thoughts. She heaved a heavy sigh, shoulders slumping as she fell back into her chair and closed her eyes. Here she was talking about never leaving anyone behind and what did her life consist of? Leaving people behind, not always physically as in the case of the young Captain O'Neill, but often emotionally.

She'd distanced herself from her father even while seeking his approval by joining the Air Force. In turn, she had cut herself off from her brother Mark. Since joining the SGC she had walked away from Jack and was now essentially doing the same with Pete. That situation had caused her to drift from Daniel and Teal'c. Her life was littered with cowardly acts of departure and this was something she wanted to fix, starting with the recovery of Captain O'Neill. Then she might have built up enough courage to deal with Jack and Pete.

P2X-117

0412 hrs

Jac came to awareness with Ba'al's Jaf'fa roughly hauling her to her feet, meaty hands grasping her by the arms, and fingers biting into her bruised and battered flesh.

"Hey, hey, hey! Hands of the merchandise buddy!" Jac cried upon realising that one of the Jaf'fa thugs had gotten fresh with her.

The Jaf'fa in question simply bellowed "Quiet!" and jerked on Jac's arm rather painfully. As she was manhandled out of her cell and down the corridor Jac did have to wonder if Sam had ever been on the receiving end of similar behaviour from enemy Jaf'fa. If she had, then Jac had to marvel at the other woman's ability not to snap out at her captors and place herself in more danger, because Jac was very close to teaching the Jaf'fa a lesson despite her injuries.

This line of thought was immediately crushed by the view presented to her in the room she was finally dragged into. It was a vision she had never wanted to see again and yet had been repeatedly subjected to in her nightmares. The interior of Ba'al's interrogation chamber was dominated by the unfortunately familiar web of metal that lined one wall.

And who was sitting in a chair, perched on the edge of the seat, looking for all the world like a cat who had just gotten the cream? Jac couldn't suppress a shuddery groan of resignation at spotting the bearded face of Ba'al. The Goa'uld broke into a huge grin, showing off the two rows of neat, white teeth that he possessed. Obviously, Ba'al was in a good mood that could only mean a lot of pain in the immediate future for Jac.

The two Jaf'fa yanked Jac into place, where upon she was pinned to the metal mesh after Ba'al activated the device. Her body protested at being slammed back against the unyielding frame, although there was some relief as the pressure was taken off her injured leg. The electronic hum of the device faded into the background as she focused on the figure in front of her, still flanked by two Jaf'fa.

**Ah, a new toy**, exclaimed Ba'al. **And female too.**

The last remark did nothing to calm Jac's fears about what might happen next.

"She is the only Tau'ri remaining, my Lord. The others were observed escaping through the chappa'ai."

**You are sure?**

"I am, my Lord," replied the senior Jaf'fa.

Jac sagged slightly in relief at the knowledge that SG-1 and the remains of the rescue team had managed to remove themselves from the planet. That had the consequence of narrowing Jac's list of worries to two: herself, and Sara's reaction to the news that she was MIA, possibly KIA.

**And the chappa'ai?**

"The guard has been strengthened around the chappa'ai and we have already destroyed a further probe sent that the Tau'ri have sent through. They have not made any attempt to dial the gate since."

Ba'al's eyes glittered as he swung his gaze from the reporting Jaf'fa to Jac. **So that means we can have a good, long, interruption free discussion, my dear.**

"Really? And what do you want to talk about, eh Ba'al? How about them Red Hawks huh?"

The Goa'uld seemed to ignore Jac's prattled jibe and fingered one of those short knives that he'd favoured the last time Jac had been his prisoner, blade glinting in the light.

"Not a big fan of hockey then?" added Jac as her eyes locked on the weapon, trying to move her broken and bound body.

**I have no problem with your loose tongue Tau'ri woman, but I have no interest in what you speak of. Perhaps we need to focus your mind. I've often heard that pain is an excellent tool for doing just that.**

With those words, the grinning parasite raised the knife until it caught the pull of the gravity well holding Jac to the mesh. When it was pointing at the pinned woman Ba'al let the blade go and it fell with some speed, sinking into the flesh of her upper thigh and sending sparks of pain shooting across her body. Jac didn't give the Goa'uld the satisfaction of hearing her cry out in pain, instead biting down on her bottom lip.

**I can see that you cling to the ill-conceived idea of holding back your reaction to pain. No matter, it is not your sobs of agony that I want. Give me all that you know about the Tau'ri and their SGC.**

Jac glanced back at the arrogant Ba'al. "Go to hell," she spat out, knowing full well that co-operation with Ba'al wouldn't be better than resisting. Either way there was a lot of pain to come.

xxx

In a wash of white light Jac could feel her senses returning to her once more, images of Ba'al's grinning face floating to the surface of her mind as she recalled just what had been taking place when she'd last been in a conscious state. After roughly forty minutes of 'interrogation' from the Goa'uld, Ba'al had decided call the session to a halt. Jac had then passed out in relief, expecting to wake up in her cell, her body ablaze with pain from her earlier injuries as well as the fresh wounds that Ba'al had inflicted upon her relatively new body.

Instead, as her eyes began to focus once more, Jac realized where she was, the interior of a sarcophagus unfortunately a sight she was all too familiar with. The revelation of the existence of a sarcophagus wasn't good news for the female officer, Jac well aware that Ba'al would continue to use the device on her til she gave him what he wanted. It did make her cast her mind back to Major Killian, who the SG teams had found dead in a cell elsewhere on this ha'tak. Had the Goa'uld tired of the Major, had the Jaf'fa killed him, or had Killian taken his own life rather than go through another torture session?

Jac closed her eyes and let out a full body sigh of exhaustion. Her injuries and torture wounds had been healed, but already she could feel the gentle tug of addiction. Originally, Jack had held to Carter's supposition that the sarcophagus acted like a narcotic if you used it when perfectly healthy, something they had discovered after Daniel's abuse of it. Yet, after her last encounter with Ba'al and his merry-go-round of torture and sarcophagus resurrection, the then Colonel Jack O'Neill had spent a couple of weeks 'drying out', as his body had fought the addictive nature of abusing the device.

It was little wonder the Tok'Ra avoided the device completely when she realized that using it, even when injured, could lead to addiction. Although it did take far greater use for the addiction to bite than it did with how Daniel had become hooked. She had told Sara the truth that she had feared losing herself to the addiction that the machine caused, an addiction that she had fought alone and in silence. Jack had told no one of his problems stemming from the use of the sarcophagus, returning to duty soon after the whole debacle was over in the belief that he had beaten the addiction.

Now as she lay inside the device she was no longer sure of her and original conclusion. Here she was, in a new body no less, having already beaten the addiction once, only to find after one use that the cravings were back and almost as strong as they had been prior to her escape from Ba'al's clutches the first time. Jac recalled various comments about its effects on a persons' soul and wondered if such a taint carried across her change of bodies. Did this mean that Jacqueline O'Neill would still have to deal with some of Jack's spiritual baggage? This was a set back that she could well do without.

Raising a slightly shaky hand to touch the ceiling of the sarcophagus interior, Jac heard the click and rumble of the device that signalled the end of her 'treatment', the covers beginning to divide and separate. Dashing any plans for a quick getaway while no one was looking were the two Jaf'fa standing to each side of the sarcophagus, staff weapons at hand. They pulled her from the machine and prodded her upright before marching her down several familiar corridors and back into the hell that was Ba'al's interrogation room.

The host of the whole horror show wasn't there to receive her, the two Jaf'fa simply moving her into position before activating the machinery that pinned her once more to the wire mesh. They backed off and stood at attention by the only door in and out of the room, waiting for their master to return and the fun to begin once more. Jac didn't bothering with visually surveying the room, having done so the last time she'd been a prisoner here, that time she had not seen any means of escape and knew that she was now in a similar situation.

Her best chance of escape was from her cell. For that to be a viable option, she would have to survive another session with Ba'al and his knives, and another visit to the sarcophagus. Given the slight tremble in her hands that she'd noticed earlier, she didn't think that another dunking in the device would be very good for her. Would she even have the willpower to escape the ha'tak if her addiction grew worse, knowing that there was a sarcophagus onboard to satiate that addiction?

The Goa'uld of the hour strode into the room with a peculiar device in his hands, looking far more excited than he usually did prior to a session of 'pin the knife on the SGC member'. He walked right up to the restrained Jac and held the object in front of her nose, his eyes alight with glee.

**Do you have any idea what this is, Tau'ri?**

Jac shook her head. Had this been during her original time with Ba'al after Kanaan, Jack would have simply said that such doohickeys were Carter's domain. Since her revamped life however, she did not have to feign ignorance or disinterest in things of a scientific nature. Now was not time to indulge in that freedom though. Whatever it was it certainly had the Goa'uld excited and in Jac's book that could only mean one thing—more pain for her.

**After the fall of Anubis, I acquired much of his territory and materials. Among them was much research on the beings who built the chappa'ai. Anubis was interested in using what he knew to create his super soldiers. Although much of that project has been lost, I am keen to resurrect it.**

Jac rolled her eyes as the Goa'uld paced during his little monologue.

**Anubis had himself as a source of the genetic material involved in the creation of such warriors. Unlike that arrogant fool, I do not possess such a gene. But a hok'taur does.**

Ba'al had stopped his pacing to and fro, in front of the pinned woman and fixed her with his dark, beady little eyes. **And to think that I did not have to go looking for one. Instead she came to me.**

_I am so right_, sighed Jac. The idiot was probably going to pull her apart as part of his Kull warrior experiments.

**If this device can be activated by you, it will confirm the trial of your blood that isolated the potential within your body.** Ba'al slapped the ball-shaped object into one of Jac's unmoving hands and stepped back to watch with undisguised anticipation.

Jac had some experience with Ancient technology, none of it particularly welcome. Just because of that, and the gene in her DNA, it didn't mean that she had any idea of what to do with the small globe in her hand.

"Sorry to disappoint you dirt-Ba'al, but I don't think your disco ball is gonna work. So why don't you cut me loose and—"

The young woman halted her taunting of the Goa'uld as the ball began to grow warm in her hand, the top segmenting and beginning to divide into separate quarters. Jac made to drop the device only to have Ba'al step up and forcibly hold the globe to her palm. She stretched her fingers further away from the device as the ball began to grow painfully hot, her palm beginning to feel like it was on fire.

**Just a little longer, my dear. That's all I need.**

The Captain could feel sweat breaking out on her forehead as the pain grew ever more intense, Jac sure that she would have severe burns on her palm to show from this little session with Ba'al and his mad ball of pain. There followed a pricking sensation that felt like someone had just dug a pickaxe through her palm and Jac listened to the desperate scream of agony that was torn from her throat with resignation. Her eyes were watering now, sweat soaking her body, as the penetration of her palm continued for a few seconds more. All this time Ba'al just watched her with intense fascination, as if searching for something in her eyes.

At last, the globes top half retreated back into its uniform ball shape and the immediate pains in her palm stopped. The Goa'uld removed the device from her hand and stepped away as her body tried to sag in relief as it was released from the inflicted torture. Jac angled her head to try to get a good look at her palm, but could see nothing from where her head was still pinned to the metal mesh behind her.

**I'm glad to see that you've abandoned the idea of trying to swallow your pain. Do you not feel so much better having voiced your agony for all to hear?** Ba'al smirked at the Tau'ri woman who looked so much smaller than she had been only minutes ago. **And now the other hand.**

Before Jac could even respond to Ba'al's taunts, the Goa'uld was slapping the device into the palm of her other hand and holding it there as he had done before. She locked eyes with him, almost able to hear out loud all the names she was calling him in her mind as heat spread across the soft skin of her palm.

SGC

0647 hrs

Interfacing with computers was never fun for Teal'c, finding staring at a monitor for hours on end an easy way to get a headache. Plus there was the Tau'ri set up for their computers with their tiny, delicate manual input devices, which DanielJackson insisted on calling 'mice' despite looking nothing like a rodent, that proved difficult to operate correctly in his larger hands. That the debacle with the modified gamekeeper chairs had only taken place a couple of months ago was also not conducive to Teal'c enjoying using the computer. The Jaf'fa paused at the memory of the 'virtual reality' experience and pondered the image of O'Neill that it had created from his own mind.

Did he deep down really think that O'Neill would be so easily killed as he was in the multitude of simulations? It did suggest that he really had misjudged the man subconsciously, logically leading to the possibility that he had been taken in by the identity that AgentBarrett stated O'Neill was living under. Sighing and shaking the errant thought loose, Teal'c growled with frustration as he dug through the SGC records of past missions, wishing that he were allowed to slam his fist through the monitor of the device. The Jaf'fa had been at the investigation for over three-quarters of an hour already and so far, the wading through the logs of numerous SG teams had proven fruitless.

AgentBarrett had also intimated, through his conversation with ColonelCarter, that whatever had happened to O'Neill, that had warranted his subsequent transfer, had involved the now MIA, probably KIA, SG-5 unit which had been under Major Hallan's command. So here he was, desperately searching the records for any information that might lead him to the trigger to the events of late September.

It had been as he'd tabbed another report to read that the name O'Neill leapt out at him. Teal'c shifted in his chair and could see the brow of his head knit in his reflection on the monitor. There was a tingle in his belly that wasn't a phantom pain of his long gone Goa'uld parasite. It was the same feeling he got when he found something of importance out in the field. O'Neill was mentioned initially as one of those present at the pre-mission briefing for SG-5's trip to P5X-878. That wasn't terribly unusual given that O'Neill had been the CO of the SGC and thus required at each briefing.

A couple of paragraphs later the missing Brigadier General was mentioned again. Teal'c blinked. The wording was unusual, even for his own grasp and usage of the English tongue as spoken by Americans. He paused in his reading and considered the paragraph again. There was something about that particular paragraph that piqued the curiosity of the Jaf'fa..

While not quite as proficient with computers as some at the SGC most notably ColonelCarter, Teal'c wasn't a slouch in that department. Following a couple of tips that O'Neill had once shared with him during the co-authoring of a mission report, Teal'c located the file history and noted that the pre-mission briefing had been modified post-mission. This was the sort of anomaly that the Jaf'fa had been searching for since pre-mission reports were never modified.

Partly because they were 'pre-mission' reports, but also because they could be then compared to the post-mission report and gaps of information in the pre-mission report identified. Those gaps could then be plugged in the pre-mission reports of other missions.

But here was Hallan altering his report. With a grim smile and a few deft keystrokes, Teal'c was able to retrieve the _ghost_ of the file's earlier version. He brought the recovered file to the fore, remembering to save a copy to his own folder before beginning to read. The Jaf'fa scrolled down to where the modified paragraph was, and there, in black and white, on the base computer screen was a reference to O'Neill. According to the report, he had been planning to accompany SG-5 to P5X-878 due to the potential discovery of Ancient technology. This was the same planet that SG-5 would eventually be listed as MIA on.

Had O'Neill gone missing on the original mission? This was a potentially disturbing revelation, yet it did not marry up with AgentBarrett's assertion that a meeting had been called to decide what to do with O'Neill. That didn't sound like the Air Force had misplaced the CO of the SGC. What was clear was that the mission log had been altered to conceal O'Neill's visit to P5X-878.

Teal'c considered that this anomaly was worth reporting to DanielJackson and ColonelCarter, but wondered if he could find anything else. Returning to the original pre-mission report, Teal'c started back at the beginning and began reading once more.

Colorado Springs Park, Colorado Springs

1132 hrs

Sam had been sitting at the park bench for some time and was beginning to think that her butt was going to fall asleep long before Agent Barrett made his promised appearance. She had spent the first ten minutes of her long wait bouncing on her heels, her body seemingly filled with boundless nervous energy. After the bouncing had come the pacing, then the scratching of the park bench with her pocketknife, before finally she had forced herself to cross her arms and wait.

Eventually Malcolm slunk out of the shadows of a copse of trees and made his way towards her park bench with a purposeful stride. He did however take a rather circuitous route, possibly in order to throw off any potential observers. Although Sam did wonder if it was something these NID-types just liked to do as it made them feel more like James Bond. A couple of minutes after he had emerged from the trees, Agent Barrett's suit-clad form came to a halt behind the bench.

"Samantha."

"Malcolm."

Sam stood, brushed the imaginary debris from the backside of her jeans and stepped around the bench to fall into step with Barrett as he led them here and there inside the park.

"Please tell me you have some new information Agent Barrett, as Teal'c, Daniel, and I are going nuts not knowing what has happened to the General."

Barrett gave Sam a sideways glance at her pleading with him. He had to remind himself that, although things weren't apparently on the up and up concerning the relationship, Sam was with the police officer Shanahan. Now was not the time to muddy the waters with his own feelings. Besides, the poor woman looked almost hysterical as she begged for something about her missing ex-CO.

"Remember when I said this went to the top?"

Sam nodded in affirmation, recalling Barrett's visit to the SGC some time earlier.

"Some things are a lot clearer now than they were a month ago. As far as I can make out, something happened during SG-5's first return visit to P5X-878. They were going back to look at a particular set of ruins that may have been some sort of Ancient's outpost. The hope was that they might dig up a ZPM or two.

"Now, whatever happened there, led to O'Neill's removal from the SGC, the decision to rearrange the makeup of SG-5 after New Year, and a third trip by SG-5 to P5X-878."

"A mission they didn't return from," added Sam.

Malcolm nodded in agreement and paused in his walk, Sam coming to a halt next to him. "Now, a rumour that I've managed to catch word of at the Pentagon, suggests that, after the second mission, SG-5 brought something or someone back through the stargate to the SGC. Apparently the infirmary was off limits for nearly a day."

"So, Doctor Brightman would be a good place to start making enquires," stated Carter as her eyes scanned the park, but took nothing in.

"Further to this, I have received confirmation that General O'Neill's ex-wife, Sara Daniels, was brought to the mountain under orders from General Hammond."

Sam froze at that piece of news, unable to draw breath. Had Sara been called to the SGC because Jack... _General_ O'Neill had died?

"I can see that you have come to the same possible conclusion that I have. It seems a likely scenario that whatever it was that came back through the stargate that day, it ultimately led to the death of General O'Neill."

The blonde standing next to Agent Barrett opened her mouth to say something, only to find that nothing would come out. In the pale sunlight of the park, her eyes were suspiciously bright and watery.

"Still," began Barrett as he plowed on. "If O'Neill had died, it wouldn't have led to the emergency meeting of the Joint Chiefs and the President that did take place."

"So there is something that we're are still missing," sighed Carter.

Malcolm took Sam's arm and began leading her in the direction of a coffee shop. She looked like she needed to sit down, he needed a coffee, and perhaps this gesture would show that there was more to him than just his NID spook side.

"Yes, there is something we are still missing." As the pair reached the park entrance, Malcolm decided there was possibly something that Sam could help him know, especially since he had become aware of it. Waiting at the corner for the light to change, Malcolm tilted his body until he was looking at Sam head on. "There is something you could help me with."

The light changed and a buzzing noise began, indicating it was okay to cross the busy street. As Barrett and Sam did so, she asked of him how she could possibly help him.

"Were you aware that General O'Neill had a niece in the Air Force?"

Sam almost tripped as she crossed the street, having to grab tightly onto Malcolm's arm that she had been holding in order to stop herself from taking a tumble. Once they were on the other side of the road the NID agent checked that she was okay, Carter waving him off.

Leaning up against the pole of a street lamp Sam took a moment to get under control. "Yes, we are aware of the existence of Jacqueline O'Neill. Why?"

Barrett shrugged. "Just that she was apparently mentioned quite a bit during that high level discussion back in September. I was just wondering if she was in anyway connected with what happened to her Uncle."

Sam slowly shook her head. "I don't think so. Perhaps it was in the context of her being a close relative who needed to be informed of his status?"

Carter couldn't believe that she was talking so calmly about the death of her ex-CO. Was that really her voice? Why didn't she sound like she was all torn up inside? How on earth was she going to be able to tell Daniel and Teal'c about the conclusion that she and Barrett had reached?

"Perhaps," allowed Barrett, not entirely swayed by the suggestion. "I still feel, however, that Captain O'Neill might have some knowledge of what happened. You should talk to her on your return to the SGC."

"That may be a little difficult," said Sam swallowing thickly. "There is a good chance that she died less than twenty-four hours ago on P2X-117."

Malcolm didn't quite know how to react to that particular piece of news. Instead, he guided Sam into the coffee shop on the corner and negotiated their way to a booth where they could sit down. They waited in silence, each engrossed in their own thoughts and only reacting to the waitress when she came to take their orders. Once they finally had their drinks, Barrett thought it safe to return to the topic of conversation.

"So, let me lay it out on the table, if you will. Something happened on P5X-878 that may or may not have lead to the death of General O'Neill. If it did, then they are covering it up by saying he was transferred to Washington. If he's not dead, then whatever happened on P5X-878 was big enough to warrant O'Neill's removal from the SGC. Whatever they have him doing now is so under the radar that I haven't heard a peep. I'm almost inclined to believe he's off world doing something for our allies again. The Asgaard really seem to like him, so he might be working with them. And again in this instance, they've pretended that he's in Washington. Either way, I've checked discreetly, there is no sign of him in Washington circles."

Sam took a long draw on her hot coffee. "In other words, all we've really managed so far is to prove that the General is not in Washington and that we're being lied to about that."

"Welcome to my world," Malcolm added, trying to inject some levity into the conversation.

Carter meanwhile was letting her mind run a mile a minute. Malcolm's suggestions were beginning to sound a little like Daniels. Not for one minute did Sam want to believe that Jack... the _General_ was dead. Here was an NID agent making the supposition as her teammate. That O'Neill was out there, either on Earth or off world, doing something that made previous Black Ops missions seem like a walk in the park. Putting him in the line of danger once more, and with a good chance that he had no backup with him. It created a tingle of fear to think that in trading off the idea that he was dead, Sam had to settle for him being in mortal peril.

This line of thought also meant that she wouldn't have to return to the SGC as the bearer of bad news. Sam kicked herself for thinking like that. O'Neill could be lying dying somewhere, his niece was quite possibly dead, and her she was thanking her lucky stars that she didn't have to deliver bad news.

Malcolm reached over and touched Sam's hand. "Look, I've got to get moving, things to do and people to spy on. At this point I think we've mined all my possible sources. Unless you can get Doctor Brightman or General Hammond to talk, or Captain O'Neill is found alive, then we may never learn what happened. I'm sorry to leave things on such a note, but I can't see any other way forward for now."

Sam got herself together and thanked the NID agent for all his work in helping SG-1 locate their missing General. She didn't like the fact that Washington wasn't going to provide any further answers for the foreseeable future, but had to admit that pushing the matter wouldn't gain them anything. Agent Barrett took his cup of coffee with him and left the Air Force Colonel sitting by herself in the coffee shop.

Minnesota State High School, Minnesota

1507 hrs

Daniel had decided he wasn't very good at loitering. He was perched on the old brick wall that marked the boundary of the high school, fingers playing with the empty cup of Starbucks coffee that he had purchased for himself. The coffee buzz had run out thirty minutes ago and Daniel was sure his attempts to appear calm and casual were having the opposite effect on the parents who were beginning to assemble outside the school gates in order to pick their children up.

While Teal'c had retreated to the computers to do some research, and Sam had gone in search of Agent Barrett and any new answers the NID man could provide on the whereabouts of Jack, Daniel had arranged the earliest flight he could to Minnesota. Within two hours he had been onboard a plane and sleeping off the excitement of the previous evenings romp on P2X-117.

The archaeologist was here, sitting on the small, waist-high wall, and kicking his feet in boredom, because this was where he would find Jon O'Neill. While 'Jack the Elder', as Daniel liked to think of him in this situation, had decided that it would be too 'weird' to know where Jon was, let alone keep in touch, Daniel had decided that as Jack's best friend one of the things he could do would be to keep an eye on the clone. It had been a year since Daniel, or any of SG-1 for that matter, laid eyes on the young clone of Jack O'Neill, and Daniel wondered how the now sixteen-year-old boy would react to his presence.

He did find it somewhat amusing that the younger Jon had ended up back in Minnesota. Obviously, you just couldn't take the place out of Jack, which would explain why the older man had returned here often when on leave. And why not? The state was big enough that the two of them were not likely to meet, and if by that statistical fluke they did, they had already decided on protocol. They'd pretend not to know each other.

Daniel saw something on the edge of his vision and suddenly realized that classes for the day had to be over, judging by the large number of students milling about. Slipping off the small wall and throwing the empty coffee cup into a nearby bin, Daniel began to wind his way between the little cliques of students in search of his quarry.

Eventually he located Jon holding court with three other males of a similar age and a couple of girls hanging at the edges of the group. Obviously, that alpha male magnetism that had so attracted the 'Touched' Sam Carter was still present. Daniel observed one of the girls, a blonde perhaps a year behind Jon in classes, giggle at something the clone had said. The archaeologist shook his head in amusement, glad, on this occasion; it wasn't himself that was attracting the attention of females. He had enough of that on the other side of the gate.

He couldn't tell when Jon had spotted him, but figured that with all the training that he had been through he had probably seen him from a classroom window some half hour ago, and was playing an elaborate waiting game in order to see how patient Daniel was going to be. So Daniel figured he'd wait Jon out, watching slowly as the group of six was eventually whittled down to just Jon and the blonde. It was at this point that Daniel decided it was prudent to talk to the young man, lest he end up waiting all day and miss his flight back to Colorado.

As he came closer to the pair, he became very aware of just how much like Samantha Carter the young girl looked, and wondered if Jon himself was cognizant of the resemblance.

"I'm sorry Rebecca, looks like I'm gonna hafta talk to the stiff over there," he heard Jon utter, thumb jerked in his direction.

The blonde, Rebecca he now understood, simply nodded and stroked Jon's exposed forearm where it emerged from the shortened T-shirt Jon wore. The young man seemed not to feel the nip in the November air like Daniel did. Then with a winning smile Rebecca spun on the ball of her left foot and strode off across the campus, presumably in the direction of home, hips swaying very nicely as she did so. Daniel couldn't help but smirk as he caught the open appreciation on Jon's face.

With a sigh, Jon tore his gaze from the departing high school student and focused himself on his former teammate. "Daniel."

"Jon."

"Daniel." There was a long pause. "Look, I know that the only reason you'd come is because I might be able to help you with a problem Jacky-boy can't. So spit it out, Daniel, what is the situation?"

Instead of asking Jon what he'd come all this way for, Daniel found himself inexplicably asking the first thing that came to mind. "Are you aware just how much like Sam that girl looks?"

Jon scowled Daniel. "Is that why you came? To critique my dating choices, Daniel? 'Cause if it is then you can push off. I also don't need you having a go at me for dating someone who is fifteen."

All he got in response was a gobsmacked look from Daniel.

"Daniel," growled Jon.

Daniel shook himself, as if his brain had restarted. "Sorry, Jack. _Jon_. I'd didn't mean to pry and it is no business of mine who you date."

"Thank you."

"Er... you're welcome. I think. Anyway, Jon, the reason I came all this way was so that you could answer a question of mine."

Jon gestured with open hands for Daniel to ask away.

"Right. What I wanted to know Jon was if Jack had any immediate family. Brothers, sisters, nephews, _nieces_..."

The sixteen-year-old had an incredulous look on his face. "You came all the way to ask me that? You know the answer, Daniel, I told you back on Abydos during that first mission."

Daniel nodded his head as Jon spoke. "That's what I thought; only we've got someone at the SGC who, according to all the paperwork, is your niece."

Jon snorted in amusement. "Well that fraud won't have lasted very long. Why did you come here to ask me? When you already knew the truth and 'Jack' could have spotted the fake in his sleep?"

"Well, that's just it Jon. You... sorry, _Jack_, was supposedly transferred to Washington at the end of September and we've not heard from you since. So you weren't around to say that this Captain O'Neill isn't your niece."

"But you were," pointed out Jon.

"True and I did tell Sam that. Since then I've gone along with the idea that she was your niece til I could talk to either you or Jack, and confirm otherwise. Now that I know for sure, I've no idea what to do with what I know. As far as the Air Force is concerned, she _is_ your niece. There is a paper trail to back that up at least a mile long. You know how security conscious the SGC is; they're not going to let a fraud within sniffing distance of the gate."

"And she's been closer?"

"Through in fact," admitted Daniel. "Helped a team that came to get us off a planet controlled by Ba'al."

Jon looked at Daniel for a long time. Eventually he spoke up, "Look, the weekend will be here in a couple of days. If you can arrange it all, I'll come back to the SGC in order to set everybody straight about this supposed _niece_ of mine."

"That would be helpful," commented Daniel. He'd achieved what he'd set out to do when he'd set out to meet Jon.

"Anything else?"

"No... actually yes," said Daniel fumbling over his words. A thought had occurred to him about something Barrett had passed on via Sam.

"If it is about Rebecca, then 'yes', I am aware how much she looks like Carter. More importantly, she's more like Carter here and here." With this, Jon gestured to his head and heart.

"Oh," replied a nonplussed Daniel. "That's... nice."

"That she looks good is just a bonus, Danny-boy," crowed Jon with a lopsided grin. "So, we done?"

"Ah, no, I wasn't going to ask you about Rebecca, Jon." Daniel took a deep breath to build some courage. "What I wanted to know is who you really are."

"Pardon?"

"Who are you really? Agent Barrett told us that _Jack O'Neill_ was a cover identity for somebody else."

"Oh, did he now? How _nice_ of him to stick his beak into other people's private business!"

"So, what he told us was true. Jack O'Neill is a fake?"

Jon winced. "Ouch, Danny-boy, that hurts! You sound like you doubt our entire friendship."

Daniel remained impassive.

"You do? Jeez, Daniel, just 'cause I had a life before the stargate I don't talk about doesn't make our friendship a fake!"

"Really? If you lied about who you are then how can I trust anything else you say about your life?"

Jon took a step towards Daniel. "Look, my life before I became Jack O'Neill is irrelevant and not worth discussing. Nothing I've ever done or said with you, Sam, and Teal'c, except maybe that blasted sting operation, has ever been a lie. I just chose to not talk about my past and you all respected that. Please leave my past as the past. And when you find whatever rock Jack is hiding under, go easy on the old man will you?"

The older man rubbed his forehead. "I guess you're right, Jon. It's just your counterparts disappearance has us all on edge, and this fake niece business."

"Like I said, I'll visit this weekend to sort out that problem. In the meantime try and reason with Sam and Teal'c about my past, please?"

"Okay."

Jon stepped back, gave an awkward wave to Daniel and then began walking away at a brisk pace, obviously keen to put some space between him and the just held conversation. Daniel decided to do the same and went in search of his rental that he'd picked up from the airport. He could mull over what Jon had told him on the flight back to Colorado. He had things to share with Sam and Teal'c and could only hope that the pair had things to share as well.


	6. Revelations

THANKS: A big thank you to Karen Joy who worked hard as my Beta on this chapter.

**SIX: Revelations**

P2X-117

November 24th, 2004

1736 hrs

Jac lay on her side on the cold, sterile floor of her cell, looking at the palms of her hands that she held up to her face. Only a slight reddish mark in the centre of each palm remained as any indication of her torture session, since the rest of her wounds had been dealt with via another dunking in the sarcophagus. It took a lot of effort on Jac's part to hold her hands steady so that she could look at them, the shaking now worse than before.

From the ranting, and grand monologues that Ba'al had run through during the previous Q&A 'get together', Jac understood that Ba'al had obviously established that she had the ATA gene after killing her the first time. Hence the reason why she had been revived with the sarcophagus while Major Killian had been left to die by the Goa'uld.

Then he'd slapped that device into her hands. Jac focused her eyes on the red dots. Given that the orb had not 'attacked' Ba'al in any way while he had handled it, Jac figured that the Ancient gene she possessed must have activated it. But while much of the technology of the Ancients that she had encountered as Jack hadn't been particularly fun, the repository springing to mind immediately, none of it had been as outright sadistic as the orb that Ba'al had made use of. Why did it exist? From where had Ba'al obtained it? Why was he so delighted to have captured a hok'taur?

Jac's musings were interrupted by a slight whine, which was all the warning she received before falling abruptly, and face first, into the new floor as the gravity of the cell was corrected. Before she could get up the Jaf'fa guards were hauling her to her feet and pulling her out of the cell. It was with weary feet that Jac plodded along with the Jaf'fa in the direction of Ba'al's favoured interrogation room where she was once more secured to the wire mesh and left to wait till 'His Sneakiness' made an appearance.

At least, mused Jac, with her limbs pinned to the mesh, she didn't exhibit any signs of the addiction her body was fighting. Somewhat bored Jac let her gaze fall to the floor where she began counting spots of blood to pass the time. She did idly wonder, at one point, if all the blood on the floor was hers, she thought she'd remember shedding all that, or combination of hers and other prisoners'.

Eventually, the 'man of the hour' swept into the room. And Jac used the term 'man' loosely, thinking Ba'al had to bat for the other team with the way he dressed. After all, there was no way in hell that Jack would have _ever_ dressed in that manner.

**And here with are again, hok'taur**, smiled Ba'al.

"Didn't get your jollies last time, huh, scum-Ba'al?"

**On the contrary, I learnt a great deal.**

Jac rolled her eyes. "Really? All I recall is some sadistic bastard inflicting pain on me."

**Ah**, crooned Ba'al. **That is why I am the god and you are a pathetic nothing, Tau'ri.**

"Ah huh. Goody."

**The earlier experiment merely helped to confirm Anubis' theories.**

"Cool! And what was ol' booby thinking?" Jac couldn't believe how much the idiotic Goa'uld was willing to spill. Did he really believe his own PR? Did he think that Jac would never be able to do anything with what he was revealing to her? Was it because he didn't realize who she once was?

_It could be because you'll die here_, piped up Jac's cynical side.

**That the hok'taur weren't as perfect a society as they obviously led others to believe they were.**

"So?"

**So?** Ba'al wandered right up to the trapped and defenceless Jac, letting his right hand stroke her face and then the right flank of her body. This produced a series of sensations that Jac just wasn't comfortable dealing with quite yet. It had taken her two months just to accept she had a female body. Those feelings were something she had planned on taking a _long_ time about getting around to thinking about. And here was Ba'al busy pressing those damned buttons.

Jac wanted to curse the bastard right there and then, but bit her tongue. She knew that to do otherwise would only give Ba'al a new weapon to use against her and possibly encourage him to go a direction of torture she didn't want to dwell on. In addition, cursing him might also cause his loose tongue to freeze up. If she was going to survive this blasted nightmare then she wanted to come out of it with something useful to bring back to the SGC. Ba'al's plans would do nicely.

**So**, repeated Ba'al. **That device I used on you was part of an arsenal that Anubis believed to belong to a planet where the hok'taur kept their undesirables.**

"You mean a prison?" gasped Jac, fighting off the not-quite-ticklish feeling that Ba'al's index finger was creating as it stroked lazy circles about one of her now very sensitive nipples that was hidden by her shredded uniform.

Ba'al smirked. **Indeed.** The Goa'uld then stopped his stimulation of her body and Jac sagged slightly, suddenly realizing that she had been straining against her bonds. She closed her eyes, unwilling to see the triumphant look on the damned parasite's face.

"And you need me," began Jac in an attempt to take back control of her body from her thrice-cursed hormones, "because I have the ability to activate their machinery. It's hardly a useful weapon if only I can use it."

**True**, said Ba'al, acknowledging the flaw in any plan to use any possible punishment devices on those who did not possess the ATA gene. **Yet, once I find this prison planet, I can always use any device I find on you—repeatedly—until I can create my own versions.**

Jac shuddered in horrified anticipation of the pain that that particular scenario promised. She had to get away from Ba'al sooner rather than later if she wanted to avoid becoming the blasted Goa'uld's punishment guinea pig.

"You won't be able to do that if I escape."

**Really?** Ba'al sounded amused. **And how would that work, little Tau'ri? Your pathetic comrades have not returned through the gate to rescue you, and within a matter of hours, my ha'tak will have departed this planet. After all, I was only here to establish if this was the prison planet or not. It is time to try another planet.**

Here Ba'al lean in face to face with Jac. **No, little Tau'ri, by the time they do try to find you we will be long gone. Leaving us with much time to entertain ourselves.**

To Jac's horror Ba'al then proceeded to kiss her. She tried to jerk her head to the side to avoid prolonging the unpleasant event, but the parasite held her head in place by her chin. When he finally finished ravaging her mouth, he took a step back as if to survey her, taking in her dirty, rumpled, and torn BDUs, and her mussed hair and swollen lips. Jac huffed a couple of times to clear her head, painfully aware of just how her body was responding despite her wishes.

**It seems, little Tau'ri, that we will be having a lot of **_**fun**_** before our arrival.**

With a wave of a hand, Ba'al signalled the waiting guards to remove Jac from the mesh and return her to her cell, before sweeping out of the room with overly dramatic flare.

SGC

November 25th, 2004

0930 hrs

The three members of SG-1 assembled in Daniel's office space in order to pool their discoveries from the previous day. Daniel himself was practically hopping from foot to foot, not because of his daily caffeine fix, but as a result of trying to restrain his urge to blurt out what he had learnt from Jon. Sam meanwhile was rather more sombre in her countenance, unsure if she had really come back from Barrett with more answers than questions. Teal'c merely hoped that what he had learnt from the mission logs might prove useful in the locating of O'Neill.

"Well, I can see that Daniel has something to share with the rest of the class," commented Sam when she noticed his agitated state. He, rather amusingly, looked like he needed to visit the 'little boy's room' with the way he was half-dancing around the room.

Teal'c nodded solemnly in quiescence to Sam's suggestion as how to start the morning's proceedings. They didn't want to dally too long with the coming debate over their findings as all three wanted to be present in the control room when Landry ordered a new MALP through the gate to P2X-117 to once again test the waters and see if it was feasible to send a team through to locate the missing Captain O'Neill.

Daniel picked up one of the artefacts that sat on his workbench, one of many from the over one hundred worlds and cultures he'd visited in his time with the SGC, and played with it as he tried to word his report to his two team mates.

"Well... ah, how do I put this?"

"Daniel?" prompted Sam.

"Right. You guys remember Jon?" Daniel fixed the pair with an earnest gaze.

Sam had a puzzled look on her face. "Jon?" The name only vaguely rang a bell. She knew it had something to do with Jack... _the General_, but quite what she couldn't recall.

"You are referring are you not to Jon O'Neill, O'Neill's clone that was created by Loki."

"I am, Teal'c, I am," confirmed the younger man.

"Oh," said Carter as she cottoned on to where Daniel was going, surprised that she herself hadn't thought of doing the same. In some respects it wasn't a surprise that she'd forgotten about Jon as, after all, no one had spoken of the clone once the two O'Neills had gone their separate ways. Shortly after that, things had become far more complicated at the SGC with the General imitating a block of ice in Antarctica. Sam was amazed that after having Jolinar's memories stuffed into her head that she didn't forget some details of her life more often.

"Anyway," sighed Daniel, "I flew out to where Jon is living and made contact with him at the end of the school day."

"That quick?" queried Sam. "How did you find him so fast?"

The archaeologist gave the Lt. Colonel a rueful grin. "Well, I decided that as a friend of Jack's it might just be a good idea to keep an eye on his younger self. After all, what sort of friend would I be if I just left him to flounder on his own and not step in if and when needed?"

Right after he'd uttered these words Daniel winced inwardly, suddenly recognizing in them just how SG-1 had _not_ been good friends with Jack the Elder.

Neither Teal'c, nor Sam, offered any response to the rhetorical question, absorbed as Daniel was in reflecting on their friendship of late with O'Neill.

"To cut a short story shorter, I asked Jon about his family in order to confirm that either Jack told me the truth while we were imprisoned on Abydos, or if Landry was correct and Captain O'Neill is indeed Jack's niece like the paperwork seems to claim."

"What did O'Neill have to say DanielJackson?"

"That what he'd told me on Abydos was the truth." Sam gave a slight start of surprise at that.

"Then the O'Neill we left behind on P2X-117 was not his niece."

"That's correct, Teal'c. Jon had no idea who the woman we thought of as Captain O'Neill could be, nor why she'd chose to hide under such an identity. But now, we have to go to Landry and tell him we may have an infiltrator within the SGC."

"If she is still alive, DanielJackson," corrected the Jaf'fa.

"Even if she's dead, Teal'c, this sort of thing represents a massive security breach here at the SGC," countered Carter. "Landry has to know about this either way."

"About that," broke in Daniel, "Could we wait till the weekend? Only Jon said he'd pay us a flying visit here at the mountain to help us set the record straight about nieces and what-have-you."

"Anything to add, Daniel?" asked Carter.

"Only that Jon confirmed what Agent Barrett told you a while back, that 'Jack O'Neill' was indeed a cover identity."

"Did O'Neill not add anything of interest to what we already know?"

"Not really, Teal'c. Just said that his life before being O'Neill was not worth rehashing."

There was an awkward pause. "Perhaps it is my turn to explain what I have discovered since we were last all together?"

"Go ahead, Teal'c," suggested Sam.

Nodding his head in thanks Teal'c pulled out a CD in a jewel case from one of his large pockets and put the object down on Daniel's workspace.

"What have you got for us, Teal'c?"

"I have obtained the mission logs of SG-5, DanielJackson. It is the reports pertaining to their second mission to P5X-878 that are the most important."

"What do they say?" asked Sam as she picked up the CD.

"It appears that the mission logs have been altered post-mission. I was able to locate and retrieve the original version of the pre-mission briefing papers, which were later amended."

"What did they have to alter post-mission?" Daniel was intrigued. He couldn't think of any reason for such an event.

"The revised papers make no mention of O'Neill accompanying SG-5 to P5X-878 due to the possible discovery of technology left behind by the Ancients."

"Jack went to P5X-878?" Daniel was surprised.

"That is the intent of the pre-mission report. However, it does not necessarily mean that he went to the planet. The fact that the report was later altered may indicate that he in the event did not join them on the other side of the gate." Teal'c paused for a moment to let that sink in. "I could find nothing else in the reports of SG-5 that indicated any further leads on the whereabouts of O'Neill."

"SG-5 thought P5X-878 might be an Ancient outpost?" inquired Sam.

"Indeed. The discovery of some ruins featuring markings not unlike those of the Ancient's writings prompted the team's return. And, I assume, their third mission to the planet that ended with their deaths."

Sam looked at Daniel. "Do you think the General went to P5X-878?"

"A chance to go offworld?" Daniel looked at her like she'd grown a second head. "Jack would have taken it like a shot."

"SG-5's second mission left almost immediately prior to the General's 'transfer' to Washington," began Sam as she sorted the timeline out in her head. "If we assume that he went planet side with SG-5—"

"—then something could have happened to Jack there!" cut in bespectacled, younger man.

"Barrett did say that he'd heard that SG-5 brought someone or something back through the gate with them on their return."

"And was not the mission cut short," added Teal'c.

"So, Jack goes off world with SG-5 and something happens to him. He's hurt somehow, perhaps, and SG-5 has to cut short the mission to return him to the SGC."

Sam piped in. "And Barrett also said that the infirmary here was off limits for almost twenty-four hours. Either the General died in the infirmary, or whatever happened to him was serious enough to remove him from the SGC to a more secure location."

"Either way," rumbled Teal'c in a grave voice, "we have been lied to about O'Neill's transfer to Washington."

"Teal'c's right, Daniel. No sign has been seen of the General anywhere near Washington since his 'transfer'."

"But," cried the archaeologist, "that means that General Hammond lied to us. Why would he do that?"

"Perhaps for the same reasons that we have been lied to about the nature of O'Neill's 'niece'," sighed Sam.

Daniel picked one of his pens off his desk and threw it across the room, listening to it clatter uselessly against the wall and then floor.

"I don't believe this! We're being lied to, nothing we _do_ learn gets us any closer to finding Jack, and all we do seem to be doing is finding more questions than answers!"

Sam laid a calming hand on Daniel's shoulder while the younger man pulled himself together, pushing his glasses up with his fingers in order to pinch the bridge of his nose. Crying right now in frustration wouldn't help proceedings and he really didn't feel like explaining to Landry why he had red eyes.

"Look, we can talk to Hammond and find out why he lied to us. Maybe he knows where the General really is. In the meantime, we have this MALP launch to watch. Plus, there is still one person here at the SGC who may know what happened."

"Who might that be, ColonelCarter?"

"Doctor Brightman."

xxx

The MALP had arrived on P2X-117 safely, an improvement on the one that had been destroyed earlier by Ba'al's Jaf'fa. This had prompted General Landry to authorize the launch of a UAV to make a great sweep of the area surrounding the gate and further afield. This too had indicated an absence of Jaf'fa and easily identified the spot where a ha'tak had once rested. It had become obvious to all straight away that Ba'al had departed the planet.

The length of the Goa'uld's visit to the planet led Daniel to begin speculating on possible reasons for Ba'al's sudden arrival and then just as sudden departure. What about P2X-117 had interested him enough to travel there by ha'tak, only to leave again so soon? While he half-argued with himself over this point, returning to all the arguments put forth by Teal'c, Sam, and himself while planetside on P2X-117, he let himself be man handled by Teal'c, who lead him away to get him geared up. It wasn't til the two men and Sam were standing in front of the ramp in the gate room, watching the ring slide to a halt and the seventh chevron lock, that the archaeologist had the presence of mind to ask where they were going.

"Back to P2X-117 DanielJackson," supplied the Jaf'fa standing to his left.

Daniel looked up at the walking advertisement for a chia pet. "Oh."

"While the UAV was useful in establishing that Ba'al is no longer present on the planet, it was unable to ascertain the status of the missing O'Neill."

The sudden rush of the wormhole establishing itself distracted Daniel and within moment, he found himself being lightly nudged through the event horizon by his Jaf'fa friend. The three of them were reconstituted a fraction of time later at the other end of the wormhole, standing warily on the platform that supported the great metal ring on P2X-117. Daniel stood in the watery light of the wormhole and studied the torn up landscape that was dominated by the wreckage of the downed glider.

Carter took a visual reference of their location and compared it with the landmarks in her head in order to work out where the destroyed weapons platform had to be. With that done, she signalled that they were moving out and led Daniel and Teal'c back into the forest that they had escaped from less than forty-eight hours earlier. It was a long and boring slog, one that Daniel used the time to further ponder Ba'al's appearance on the planet.

As they walked, he debated the merits of the planet, as a strategic base for Ba'al, with Teal'c and was eventually forced to agree with the Jaf'fa's assessment that the planet served no possible use for the further acquisition of territory. It didn't even have inhabitants any longer that could serve as possible slave or Jaf'fa recruit material. Sam had chipped in at that point and added that as far as her, somewhat limited, scientific tests could apprise her of the planet's makeup; there was nothing unusual or special about the planet. Nothing, at least, that couldn't be found on a hundred planets not already under Ba'al's control.

For Daniel that left one option. The reason that had brought SG-1 to the planet in the first place, which was the ruins that were potential remains of the civilization of the Ancients. If Ba'al had been after something in ruins then he wouldn't be the first Goa'uld to take an interest in the Ancients. Anubis had also done so, although he'd had a head start in that appreciation by being half-ascended himself.

If Ba'al had come here looking for something specific in the ruins and had not found it, then the logical suggestion was that the Goa'uld would be visiting several planets with possible Ancient outposts in search of what he was looking for. First Daniel wanted to rule P2X-117 off that list and pleaded with Sam to let them extend the mission by a few hours and let him take one more look at the ruins before returning to the SGC.

Sam had eventually given and agreed to spend two hours at the ruins _after_ they had surveyed the wreckage of the weapons platform and discovered what had happened to Jack's fake niece.

It was in the order of fifteen minutes after that deal had been brokered, with acceptance from Teal'c who'd end up having to stand guard that the three of them arrived at the remnants of the destroyed tower. Debris was spread across a wide area and they split up, staying within sight, and began a systematic investigation of the ruins.

By the time they reached the other side of the broken platform it was time to break for lunch. The three of them picked a shady spot and sat down, meals in hand. They compared notes as they ate, coming quickly to the conclusion that Captain O'Neill must have escaped the explosion as no sign of her body could be found. Teal'c had begun to speculate that perhaps her remains were caught up in the limbs of a tree when he'd gone still and stalked several metres away before disappearing into the trees.

Teal'c returned as the other two finished packing up, staff weapon still in hand. "I do believe that O'Neill survived."

"Because?"

The Jaf'fa raise an eyebrow as if amused by Daniel's questioning of his tracking skills. "There was a short path broken through the trees a short distance from here. All the indications are that someone of her build, and badly injured, attempted to flee the general area."

"Are you sure it was her?" asked Carter.

"Indeed, Colonel Carter, as there is fragments of clothing that matches SGC uniforms. But I fear we will not find her here."

"You're sure she escaped the blast, but...?" Sam cocked her head.

"From what I was able to tell it appears that she was found by a party of Jaf'fa."

"And if she was taken by Jaf'fa then she'd be onboard the ha'tak that has already left," finished Daniel.

"Indeed. Except for another survey of the ruins, there is nothing more to be learnt here."

Ba'al's ha'tak, en route to Thannen

1456 hrs

Jac stirred from sleep, groaning in pain as her legs protested. Interestingly she found that she couldn't really feel her arms and wondered if Ba'al had ordered them removed while she was asleep. She almost giggled at the thought of sleeping through such torture and the reaction it would have provoked in the Goa'uld. Still, she didn't laugh and instead forced her eyes to open. This revealed the sight of her regular torture chamber, Jac still pinned to the mesh of metal as she been when she'd last been conscious. How long ago had that been anyway?

If she'd been left there since Ba'al had finished 'exploring' her, and here Jac paused to shudder at the memories, then that certainly explained why she couldn't feel her arms. She'd have killer pins and needles in her arms whenever the stupid parasite got around to releasing her.

The arrival of two Jaf'fa caught her attention as they entered the room and took up the customary positions on either side of the door. Ba'al himself took another five minutes to turn up, returning to the room in same manner in which Jac recalled his departure. He swept into the room in such a grand manner, that Jac was sure that if the Goa'uld had been wearing a cape that it would have been billowing in some non-existence wind.

**It is good to see you again, my dear**, Ba'al said as if butter wouldn't melt in his mouth.

"Ah... can't say the same ol' Ba'ally-boy."

The Goa'uld cocked an eyebrow at her. **Your manner of speech reminds me of a previous guest of mine.**

"Really," drawled Jac, well aware of the person that the parasite was referring to.

**A most frustrating example of the Tau'ri, he prattled much like you did when he was in my presence. He was a weak, old fool, who trembled at the sight of me.**

Jac was of the opinion that having a snake in your head automatically reduced a person's brain cell count by at least half. Was that really how Ba'al though Jack's time in this torture chamber had gone?

"Not the story I heard," shot back Jac, wanting to see just how the Goa'uld would react to having his version of events undermined. "I heard that you got squat out of him. Nada. Zip. A big, fat zero."

Ba'al took a step closer to the hok'taur woman who was talking back to him instead of shaking in his presence. He looked her deep in her large, brown eyes, then at the tag on her ruined BDUs, before looking her in the eye once more.

**O'Neill.**

"Oh gee, Ba'al. You say my name with such undisguised delight. You must really like me."

The Goa'uld snarled and clubbed Jac across her face hard enough so that she felt the blood trickling from her nose and onto her lips. **How is it that you have changed your form?**

"Well..." Jac managed with a broken nose. "It's funny that you should ask, because–"

**Silence! I did not ask you a question, O'Neill.**

"Really, is that so. 'Cause I'm sure I heard you ask me 'how is it that you have changed–'"

Jac got no further in her recitation of the question, as the speaker of such words had suddenly clamped his hand around her throat, crushing her windpipe and making it difficult to breath. **You may be a hok'taur, O'Neill, and you may have escaped me once before, but this time I will take what I need from you and then ruin you. Should your Tau'ri friends attempt to rescue you, all they shall find is a broken body.**

O'Neill would have dearly loved to have rebutted the Goa'uld's point, but since he was still constricting her windpipe she was having problem getting enough air to breathe, let alone make words. He let go of her throat and just as she took a deep breath, he proceeded to punch her hard in the abdomen. Jac's body didn't know whether to breathe in or out at that point, nerve endings in her lungs screaming out in pain.

While she hung on the mesh, her body trying to restore some form of order, Ba'al was pacing the chamber. **You are obviously more than the simple Tok'Ra host I thought you were when I first had the pleasure of torturing you, O'Neill. You are a hok'taur, and have demonstrated the ability to alter your form. There is much that you can teach me then.**

"No chance in hell," gasped Jac as her breathing began to steady.

**Oh, but there will be. I'm going to use all the delicious instruments of pain that I discover on the hok'taur prison world on you. Originally, it was merely an opportunity to test the device out and create my own versions. But now that I know that it is you, O'Neill, that I hold here on my ship and that you are a hok'taur of some ability, I will use those devices to learn your secrets. By the end, you will tell me everything I wish to know, and then you will beg for death!**

"You talk a lot, Ba'al, but from where I am your talk seems pretty cheap."

**And from where I stand, you have a death wish.**

"Meh," replied Jac as she tried to shrug her shoulders. "What are you going to do, eh?"

Ba'al nodded to the two Jaf'fa on guard. **Release her and escort her back to her cell. I have something special planned for her once we arrive on Thannen.**

The two guards set about removing her from the antigravity mesh, content to watch her crash to the floor once the device had been deactivated. Jac's arms stung in pain as the blood circulation, that had been so long denied, began to function properly once more and pins and needles set in. Her legs too wouldn't behave, and she found herself being unceremoniously carted from the chamber, the last image in her eyes, as the guard stunned her with a zat, being the mocking face of Ba'al.

SGC

November 26th, 2004

1745 hrs

Plans to talk with Dr. Brightman upon their return from P2X-117 were put on hold when it turned out that she was unavailable, having left their post-mission infirmary check to a subordinate. By the following day the situation hadn't improved, the good Doctor apparently off base in Boston for some unspecified reason. The SF who had informed SG-1 of Brightman's absence speculated that it was for family reasons and the three of them couldn't dispute that, they didn't know Janet Fraiser's replacement as well as they'd know Janet herself.

With that potential interrogation put aside for now, SG-1's new focus became the impending arrival of Jon O'Neill to the SGC. Sam had already managed to wangle a private meeting between SG-1, Jon, and the General in order for them to lay all their cards on the table regarding the fake nature of Captain O'Neill's stated identity.

All three were a bit hesitant about meeting Jack's clone, as Daniel had been the only one to talk to him since the two O'Neills had parted ways and then only for the first time days prior to this meeting. They stood in their little group in the main briefing room outside of General Landry's office, not really talking as they were all far too wound up about what they were going to discuss.

The General himself was currently on the phone with Hammond at the Pentagon, as they were currently deep in decision-making about the makeup of the team that would be taking the _Prometheus_ to the Pegasus galaxy in order to make contact with the missing Atlantis expedition that Dr. Weir had led through the stargate some months ago. From what he'd heard about Dr. Jackson, Hank Landry was sure that the archaeologist would have been beating down his door in order to secure a place on the mission.

Then again, SG-1 was still waiting on word of where Jack O'Neill had ended up and that might have been enough to curb Jackson's curiosity for now. Hank himself becoming a little concerned about the lack of information concerning O'Neill had begun calling in a few markers of his own in order to find out what he could learn. When Colonel Carter had originally expressed the worries of SG-1 he'd figured that it was a simple case of the paperwork taking time to be processed. Now, however, he himself was beginning to think there was something else to the matter.

"So were happy with the organization of the team then, Sir?" Landry queried Hammond who was on the other end of the line.

"Great, I'll let him know, Sir... oh, before I let you go, Sir. One quick question?"

Hank paused to let his superior speak.

"Yes, Sir. I was wondering if you had any knowledge at all, about what has happened to General O'Neill? Only, I have this draw in the desk that I can't open and I was hoping that he might have taken the key by accident... Yes, Sir. I understand, Sir. Thank you."

Landry placed the receiver back in its cradle and sank back in his seat. Hammond had said he was unaware of exactly what Jack was currently up to, but if Jack was still part of the SGC in some manner then whatever the errant General was doing should have ultimately fallen under Hammond's jurisdiction. Something didn't sit right with Landry, but it was a matter he'd have to ponder at a later time. SG-1 had asked for a private meeting and it was about due to begin. He could even see the three huddled together in the briefing room, looking decidedly nervous. Had they done something they shouldn't have?

Sighing, he climbed out of his seat and strode into the briefing room.

"SG-1."

"Sir," came Carter's crisp reply. Teal'c meanwhile merely nodded his head, an indication that Landry still had some way to go in gaining the same respect that Hammond had commanded of the Jaf'fa, and Daniel Jackson gave some indistinct response, which meant the poor lad was completely distracted by something else. This was probably some strange artefact that he'd found recently.

"Have a seat, people," said Landry as he gestured at the empty seats.

The four of them sat and Hank looked over to Carter since she'd been the one to ask for the meeting in the first place. "We're waiting on someone, Sir."

Landry nodded in acceptance of this fact. There was an awkward moment, as none knew what to do with themselves.

"Colonel."

"Sir?"

Hank decided to bring up what he'd asked Hammond, and the General's response, in order to head off any questions from SG-1 on the matter of their former CO. After he'd explained all he caught Jackson giving the Colonel a significant glance, one which caused the Jaf'fa to raise an eyebrow.

After another awkward silence, Landry had had enough. "Would any of you care to at least brief me on what we are going to be talking about?"

"It's about Captain O'Neill," blurted out Daniel.

"Really? I could see from your post-mission reports that it is most likely that Ba'al now possesses the missing Captain, am I correct, Doctor Jackson?"

"Yes, Sir. I've an idea on how we might be able to resolve that issue, but it's not the reason why we asked for this meeting."

"And that would be?"

"That would be me, Hank ol' buddy," cried Jon O'Neill as he climbed the spiral staircase that led from the control room to the briefing room.

Landry looked over the new arrival and knew he felt familiar, but wasn't able to place the lad who looked to be roughly seventeen years of age. Landry turned to Carter, "This is who we've been waiting for?"

"Yes, Sir."

"If I may," butted in Jackson. "General Landry, may I introduce Jon O'Neill?"

The General sized the boy up once more and immediately understood why he'd seemed so familiar. "A nephew, huh? Jack's got a lot of family crawling out of the woodwork all of a sudden. Is there a family reunion going on that I don't know about?"

"No, indeed," replied Teal'c with a straight face. "If you are aware of all of SG-1's reports then you would know that this is in fact the clone of O'Neill that was created by the Asgaard Loki."

"Right," said Landry with a tight grimace, recalling the report. So much for being an April Fools joke that he believed that O'Neill had slipped into the reports prior to his departure. "And the reason you wanted to introduce him to me?"

"That would be because of this so-called niece of mine that is running around the SGC, Hank," drawled Jon, amused by the twitch that Hank gave when he realized that a teenager was addressing him with such familiarity.

"You're really Jack?"

"It's like the fountain of youth, Hank. I'm sixteen, but upstairs I'm over fifty. Just means that I at least have some idea of what to do if I find a girl in my bed."

Jon winced at how crass that had sounded, damn teenaged hormones, while Daniel winced in pain for the male half of the human race that'd somehow pay for such a remark. Carter settled for merely glaring at the lad who eventually caught her stare and awkwardly shrugged his shoulders in apology. Teal'c merely laughed on the inside. Truly the Tau'ri were amusing to be around.

Meanwhile Hank had finally processed what Jon had said. "So-called niece? What the hell does that mean?"

Jon crossed the distance from the stairwell to the table and sat down in the empty seat next to Teal'c.

"Hey, T."

"O'Neill," acknowledged the Jaf'fa with a tip of the head.

"Well, Hank, what it means is this chick, whoever she is, is pretending to be my niece."

"She's not your niece?" Landry could begin to see why SG-1 might have been concerned by such a discovery.

"Nope. Never had a niece. Period. Not one. Zero—"

Hank held up a hand to stop Jon from continuing in the same vein. "I get the picture. In other words, we have a potentially serious security breach here at the SGC. The problem is that until we can get a hold of her we really have no way of learning what she was planted in the SGC for."

"That's where my earlier idea comes in, General," said Daniel speaking up.

"That would be?"

"Ba'al didn't hang around on P2X-117 for very long which to me suggests that he is looking for something. Now the only thing of interest on the planet is the ruins that belonged to the Ancients."

"So?"

"If I'm right, then Ba'al's next destination will also be a planet with some remnant of the Ancients on it. All we need to do is work out which one and retrieve the Captain while the ha'tak is grounded."

"It sounds a tad flimsy, Doctor Jackson," pointed out Landry.

Jon got in next. "Flimsy, Hank? Come on, you have no real idea which planet Ba'al's gone to and you have how many to chose from?"

"A dozen," admitted Daniel.

"A dozen," cried Jon. "And you're just gonna wander in and get this impostor out? Let her rot for all I care!"

Hank gave Jon a hard stare. "That may be the easiest solution to the immediate problem of the security breach. However, we need to know who put her here and why. For that we'll need the Captain."

"Besides," added Sam, "We've managed to rescue one lot from Ba'al's ha'tak already and that was when the Goa'uld was aware we were already on the planet. If he's not expecting us then it may be even easier." She turned to look at Landry. "Do we have a go, Sir?"

"As soon as you know where, let me know, Colonel."

Sam nodded in thanks.

"Now, is there anything we need to discuss? I've got people I need to talk to about the Atlantis mission."

"Just," started Daniel, "just if you know when Doctor Brightman is due back on base."

"Monday, Doctor Jackson. May I ask why?"

"Just need her to refill my prescription for my allergies," Daniel bluffed.

Landry nodded, dismissed SG-1 and Jon, and returned to his office to make several more calls. The four left behind spend a minute or so staring at each other.

"So, why did you need to talk to Doctor Brightman, Danny-boy?" asked Jon. "Got some serious crush stuff going on, huh?"

Daniel glared at the boy. "Jon."

"Daniel."

"Jon."

"Daniel. Gonna answer my question?"

"We believe that Doctor Brightman may know of your older self's whereabouts," supplied Teal'c.

"Because?"

"Because, Jon," ground out Daniel in annoyance over the 'crush' remark, "We have information that points to Jack being in the infirmary prior his disappearance."

"I knew it!" cried Jon. "Always knew I'd go into the infirmary one day and not come out again. Damn needle-waving-power-mongers."

For Sam that outburst merely proved that Jack at least still survived in the form of the boy across the table from her, but she needed to talk to the original if she was going to sort her mess of a social life out.

"Have you tried the video camera recordings," asked Jon, which prompted Daniel to slap his forehead in disbelief that he'd ignored such an avenue of information.

"I have," said Teal'c, surprising both Sam and Daniel. "However, all material of SG-5 returning through the stargate, the infirmary around that time, and any corridor in between, has been erased from the database. No effort has been spared in order to keep us where there is no light."

"That's 'keep us in the dark', T ol' buddy."

The Jaf'fa uttered his thanks as Jon laid his hands down on the table. "Look folks, let me be blunt."

Daniel couldn't help but squawk in amusement at that statement.

"Fine," huffed Jon, with an added glare at Daniel, "Blunter than normal. I've got a new life now, and, despite some age issues I'm not ever going to get into with you, I'm happy with where I am. I think I've done all I can on this one for you, now that Hank is aware of the problem. So if you don't mind, I'm gonna ship out back home. Got school on Monday and a pile of homework due."

"You're just going to leave?" asked a surprised Daniel.

"Yup. Look, I know you think I should do otherwise, but I've lived a life of pretending to be other people and the one general rule that stands is 'don't go back', and I'm afraid talking to you guys counts as 'going back'. We have to part here if I'm gonna stand any chance of making something of my new life. So, no hard feelings, but 'bye'."

"Jon?" said Daniel, quite stunned by the clone's approach to the situation.

"Sayonara. Ciao. Good-bye." With those words the lad had stomped down the spiral stairs and back out of the lives of SG-1.

Samantha Carter's apartment, Colorado Springs

November 28th, 2004

1447 hrs

Since the departure of General O'Neill's clone, Daniel had shown Sam the list of twelve planets that Ba'al might attempt to visit next in order to find whatever it was he was looking for. Sam had then established their locations relative to P2X-117 and with that, the pair had whittled down probable planets to just two. With General Landry's permission, small monitoring devices had been connected to the DHDs on the respective planets and designed to dial Earth and alert the SGC if they detected a ha'tak approaching the planet. That would hopefully give SG-1 enough time to gate to the planet in order to begin a rescue mission.

So, with nothing to do since then, as Teal'c had calculated that for Ba'al to reach either planet would take some time, two Wednesdays from now at the earliest arrival time, SG-1 had been ordered to take some downtime as long as they remained on call should Ba'al arrive earlier than expected. Hence, Samantha Carter was sitting in her apartment, hot coffee on the low coffee table next to the sofa she was currently lounging upon, and reading her latest Scientific American and making hundreds of notes in the margins as she picked apart various theories.

Daniel had gone home to 'play with rocks', a phrase Daniel himself had used and which had caused both of them to share a sad smile, and Teal'c had stated his intention to watch the original Star Wars trilogy once more, having felt sufficient time had passed since he'd last indulged in watching them. For that reason, Sam had not been expecting visitors and was thoroughly surprised to hear her doorbell ring that Sunday afternoon.

The blonde opened her front door to find two very familiar males waiting on her doorstep. The closest was her brother Mark, and standing a step behind him, almost hiding behind her brother's shoulder, was her fiancé Pete. Pete looked at her rather sheepishly, but Mark was wearing the same face he used whenever he tried to argue with her over something. The look in his eye was serious too, Sam recalling that the last time her brother had looked like this was when he'd tried to argue against her joining the Air Force. He'd lost then, and Sam hoped that he would once again lose with whatever it was that he was going to try to convince her of.

"Mark, Pete," Sam said, as if saying their names would somehow banish them to the other side of the planet.

"Sam," responded her brother. "May we come in?"

Carter realized that she was indeed blocking the doorway and stepped back, "Sure, come on in."

With that permission, the two men ambled into her lounge area and proceeded to shed their jackets. Pete actually managed to hang his up on one of the hooks provided, causing Sam to feel a jolt of satisfaction at managing to train the Denver Police Officer to do that instead of what her brother had done, which was to dump the damp item of clothing over the arm of one of the sofas. Sam promptly removed the offending jacket and hung it up next to Pete's.

"Can I get either of you a drink?" she asked, making at least an attempt at playing the good hostess.

With orders for a coffee from each, she ducked into the kitchen. She'd had an ulterior motive in asking if they'd wanted drinks. Now she had time to shore up her defences and figure a way through the minefield that now lay in her lounge. Pete had said he'd back off and give her time to think things through when they'd last talked at the start of the month. Since then the cop had obviously talked to her brother, and since they were friends that wasn't a terribly unlikely thing to happen, who had dragged the poor man back here in order to 'talk some sense into her'. Sam had almost smashed the coffee mugs into the kitchen bench at what she perceived as the presumption of her brother in his coming to talk to her about her relationship with Pete.

After all, it wasn't likely that he had come to shoot the breeze. Despite some reconciliation with their father almost six years ago, Mark was still decidedly cool towards her and Jacob because of their choice to be a part of the Air Force. Since the reconciliation, she'd had maybe a dozen decent conversations with Mark, and a few others that had degenerated into shouting matches thanks to her 'stubborn' desire to remain with the USAF and the SGC. So Mark wasn't here to trade small talk about family, and if he'd brought Pete then he wasn't likely to talk about the USAF, except as a stumbling block to her marriage to Pete. No, Mark was here to talk relationships.

She was all smiles as she breezed out of the kitchen a little later with two cups of coffee, just the way the 'boys' liked them. Sitting down on the sofa next to Pete, with some space between them, she tidied up her magazines and drained the last of her cooling coffee from her cup. "It's nice to see you Mark, you too Pete."

Mark snorted and Sam blinked at her brother's actions. "Mark?"

"'You too Pete'," he parroted. "The man is your fiancé for God's sake, Samantha, and you treat a visit from him like he's the man come to fix the taps!"

Carter was stunned. She'd thought that Mark would have at least started somewhat softly in his general condemnation of how she ran her life. Instead, it seemed like he was going for the jugular straight away. If that was the case then so be it, thought Sam. I can give as good as I get.

"And you're one to talk, Mark, since you still treat Dad like he's something you've scrapped off the bottom of your shoe!"

Out of the corner of her eye Sam could see Pete seeking shelter behind one of the sofa cushions that he'd brought up to his chest and felt a pang of pity for the guy as he became stuck in another one of the regular Carter sibling wars.

"This is about you, Samantha! Can't you see what your fluffing around is doing to Pete?" Here Mark gestured to the cowed form of the cop, not really taking in the body language of his friend as he was focused entirely on his sister and her mistakes as he saw them.

"This isn't about me at all, Mark, and you know it. Once again this is all about you, and what you want."

"What I want?" blustered Mark, trying to build up a head of steam.

"Pete and I talked, and he _chose_ to give me this time to sort out just what I wanted in my life, my relationships. Yet you have to interfere because that doesn't quite gel with the life you'd like me to have."

Mark had stood up by this time, his face beyond pink. "I just don't understand why you're letting a good guy like Pete dangle in the wind? You said 'yes' to marriage, so why are you pussyfooting around?"

"I'm not 'pussyfooting around', as you would deem it," replied Sam, as she too stood up. "I want to make absolutely sure, that if I walk up that aisle with Pete that it is definitely what I want with my life."

"So what is holding you back from making that decision then?"

"I'm not going to answer that, Mark," said Carter, who really didn't want to explore the idea that she had unresolved feelings for her currently missing ex-CO.

"So you're just going to leave Pete in the dark then, is that it?" probed Mark, frustrated with his sister's replies.

"Pete's not in the dark," sighed Sam. "And you're just here because I'm no fitting some idealized picture of my life that you somehow have lodged in that thick skull of yours."

"So we're back to it being all about me, huh?" questioned Mark sarcastically, not really expecting confirmation.

"I don't think you really understand me at all, Mark. I almost think you're pushing for this wedding in the misguided belief that I'll leave the Air Force if I marry Pete. I'm telling you now, Mark, that even if I do marry Pete, I'm not going to quit the Air Force."

Mark spluttered a few incoherent words in outrage. As he did so Sam turned to Pete, who was watching the shouting match from over the top of the cushion pinned to his chest, and gave the poor guy a weak smile of apology. Pete managed a shaky nod in reply. He'd come to Sam's against his own wishes, having truly promised to give her the time she needed to make her decision. From Sam's small smile, he'd obviously not lost any points, but his friend Mark was obviously going to be spending some time in the doghouse if he kept this argument going much longer. If he pushed it too hard, Pete was of the opinion that Sam might even resort to kicking them both out of the house in order to get some peace and quiet.

"That is the line I've drawn in the sand, Mark. You either respect the choices I've made, or you get out of my house."

"Samantha," Mark sort-of-whined.

"Mark," the woman in question responded with determination. "Pick. Either your sister or your irrational hatred of the Air Force."

"Why the hell do I have to pick, huh?"

"Because you are the one with the problem here, not Pete, and certainly not me."

Mark sat back down, slumping into the chair and rather mournfully reaching for his up to now neglected cup of coffee. Still wary, Sam sat back down on the sofa, this time sitting a little closer to Pete who'd finally dropped the cushion. She cast the officer another apologetic look as if to say 'you know what he's like'. Pete did. He'd already heard half a dozen anti Air Force rants from Mark since he'd started dating Samantha, but that wasn't what occupied his thoughts as he sipped on his coffee.

Pete had been caught by Sam's comment that she believed that Mark was pushing for this in the hopes that she'd leave the Air Force. He had to wonder if Mark had introduced him to Sam purely because he'd wanted Sam out of the Air Force, not because he thought they might be a good match. Pete had to admit to himself that he had thought that Sam might give up the Air Force once they'd become married, and was now forced to reconsider how he saw their future together.

When he'd left Sam's apartment earlier in the month he'd told himself she was just getting early pre-wedding jitters. Now he saw that she'd actually been putting a lot of thought into their future and he realized that while she'd been thinking the whole thing through he'd simply been marking time and waiting for her decision. Pete knew that once he was gone from here today that he had to really take a look at their relationship and what they both wanted from it, because it was starting to sound like their goals in life might be the more than the slightest bit incompatible.

"I'm sorry, Sam. I just want what's best for you," pleaded Mark between gulps of coffee.

"I know, Mark, but you have to learn that _I_ know what is best for me. Not you." Sam had the resigned feeling that this issue wasn't solved, merely pushed aside for the sake of maintaining their brother-sister relationship. Mark was obviously convinced that he'd lost this battle, but still had a chance to win the war. He'd be back to argue this point with her again some other time. Pete however seemed deep in thought and she had to wonder just what he was making of the entire situation.

SGC

November 29th, 2004

0815 hrs

It was a Monday, and they weren't usually a busy day emergency wise for the medical part of the SGC. Monday was the day most new missions departed on, so there would the standard battery of pre-mission tests for each member of a team going out into the field. But that paled in comparison to the havoc that was a Thursday or a Friday, which was usually when a team dialled home to explain all about the new exotic disease that they picked up by accident. SG-1 weren't an exception to this rule, possibly going as far as being the trendsetters with the number of times each member had been confined to the infirmary due to some strange event that had taken place off world.

Since she'd taken over as chief medical officer, they'd had replicators probing the members of SG-1 and Anubis doing a bit of body swapping. Because of this, and their prior track record of the previous seven years, Brightman wasn't particularly happy to see SG-1 waiting for her in her infirmary. This could only mean trouble. She sized them up as she walked in. All three were present, so that was 'somebody dying of something awful off world' off the list. None of them appeared to be injured so it was going to be another one of those 'going mad' episodes possibly. Brightman put on her game face and approached the three waiting SGC members.

"So, what is the problem, SG-1?" queried Brightman as she looked about for a clipboard with which to take notes.

"We wanted to talk to you about an old case," ventured Sam.

"None of you are injured then, in any way?" checked the female Doctor.

"None of us are incapacitated in any form, DoctorBrightman," answered the Jaf'fa.

"Good, good. Well, if you're ship shape, then how can I help?"

"The old case Sam mentioned," prompted Daniel with a slight whine.

"Of course! Which case would this be Major Carter?"

"Ah...," began Carter, before pausing.

"September thirtieth of this year," supplied Teal'c. "SG-5 brought O'Neill into this infirmary. We wish to know why he did not appear to leave."

Brightman couldn't say that she was truly surprised at this. She told General Hammond that no amount of fudging the records would stop SG-1 from pursuing the truth about what had happened that day. If anything, she was surprised by how long they'd taken to getting around to talking to her. The timing was unfortunate, given that she'd just returned from Boston where she'd had to tell Sara Daniels that Captain Jacqueline O'Neill was currently MIA.

Did the three in front of her know the whole truth, or were they just fishing for information? In many respects, she hoped it was the latter, as she didn't want to be the one to tell them that they had effectively abandoned 'Jack' once again.

"Oh," was all that the Doctor could really think of saying to that request.

"What can you tell us?" pleaded Daniel.

"I'm not able to tell you much, since I'm sworn to secrecy under the Official Secrets Act." It saddened her that she _couldn't_ tell the trio what had taken place, and it made her wonder if part of the reason behind keeping SG-1 in the dark was to use it as punishment for O'Neill. After all, Jack had ruffled more than just a couple of feathers in his time.

"Was O'Neill present in this infirmary on that day as a patient?" asked Teal'c forcefully.

Brightman felt she could at least confirm that and nodded, not trusting her voice.

"Was he injured?" asked Sam.

"No. I can honestly say that O'Neill was in the best shape ever." She wasn't lying. From what the tests she had performed on the new Captain O'Neill could tell her, O'Neill had the body of a twenty-four-year-old. But it was one that had never been subjected to the rigors of life. No broken bones, no cavities, scars, or anything else for that matter. So, she wasn't lying, just not giving them anything useful.

"But you can't tell us what happened to Jack after that?" Daniel was unhappy with the lack of information they were getting from the good Doctor.

"That is correct, Doctor Jackson. Look, I would dearly love to tell you what happened and I protested about the removal of you three from the list of those being informed. However, I'm just the medical officer here and Hammond and those further up the chain of command overruled me. You'll just have to try asking one them for the truth."

"And the bringing of Jack's ex-wife Sara here?"

Brightman favoured Daniel with an admiring look. "You three have certainly being doing your homework, which is sort of amusing."

"Amusing?" queried Teal'c.

"What I can is that the official reason why you three were not told what happened is because of exactly what has happened."

"Pardon?" Daniel was confused.

Sam, however, wasn't. "They knew that whatever it is that was going on would be something that we'd focus on. Am I right?"

Brightman nodded.

"So?"

"So, Daniel, how much _real_ work would we be getting done if we focused on this unexplained problem? Especially if it involved General O'Neill." Carter fixed Daniel with a look.

"Not a lot, I guess," frowned the archaeologist.

"In other words, by keeping SG-1 out of the loop they hoped that we wouldn't waste our time on this unexplained problem and instead do the usual work as ordered."

"But we haven't been focused on the work, we've been busy trying to find out..." Daniel groaned as he finally understood.

Brightman suppressed a giggle. As desperately sad as the current situation was with SG-1 unaware of what took place and Jac missing off world, there was some small humour in the tragic comedy of errors that was going on. "In essence you've been doing exactly what the whole secrecy thing was officially supposed to prevent in the first place. Now I'm afraid that it is more than my job is worth to tell you any more. As I said, your best bet for more information is to go and talk to someone higher up."

"And Sara was here, because?" tried Daniel.

"I asked for her to be brought here. It was my recommendation to General Hammond and he agreed. Now, I have SG-17 due in here in a couple of minutes, so I'm going to have to ask you to leave. Take my advice, and ask someone with a bit more clout."

With that last suggestion, Bright man hurried SG-1 out of the infirmary with a heartfelt sigh. Life would have been so much simpler if the President and Joint Chiefs had listened to her recommendations instead of making their own foolish ruling on the O'Neill situation. Now it looked as if SG-1 was going to be hurt badly when they finally learnt the truth, not to mention the fact that Jac had possibly already lost her new life due to being in the wrong place at the wrong time.


	7. Where Angels Fear to Tread

THANKS: A big thank you to Karen Joy who worked hard as my Beta on this chapter.

**SEVEN: Where Angels Fear to Tread**

Ba'al's ha'tak, en route to Thannen

December 1st, 2004

1812 hrs

Jac had been left to ponder the excitement that four blank walls could provide.

It was driving her insane.

In her previous life, when she'd fallen victim to the war with Iraq and been placed in a prison by her captors, she'd at least had the horribly dull throbbing ache of her injuries to keep her mind off the boredom that incarceration brought. Now however, thanks to the sarcophagus that Ba'al possessed, she didn't have any injuries at all. But she did have the shakes real bad, currently forced to lie on her back with her left hand fiercely holding her right to her chest in order to keep it from shaking too much.

Jack had always been a control freak. Jac was the same, since no little thing like a gender change was going to wipe away fifty-plus years of habit. It was one of the reasons why becoming part of the Air Force had been such an easy route for Jack to take when required to back in the Eighties, and why Jac had readily accepted remaining after P5X-878. The Air Force provided them both with control in the form of rules, regulations, and ranks.

It was why Jack had hardly talked of his emotions; because once you started talking about them, you no longer controlled them. They controlled you. It was why most people, even Daniel still, found him somewhat standoffish in nature. A lifetime of enemies had also taught Jac never to give somebody something that they could hold over him. That was why Charlie had hurt so much, why it continued to hurt, and why Sam's engagement to Pete Shanahan pained her. They were examples of when she'd not had control and how it had hurt her.

Jac rolled on to her side, crushing her right hand between her body and the floor of the cell. This addiction to the sarcophagus was just another example of a loss of control. Sometimes she lost control on purpose, as a way of venting. In those times, alcohol had been Jack's choice of escape. Now was not the time for her to lose control of herself or her situation, but she could feel a slight panic creeping up on herself as each day rolled past in a blurred haze of torture, interrogation, Ba'al's device testing, and resurrections in the sarcophagus.

The Goa'uld was wearing her down, and he knew it. Jac couldn't place a figure on how much longer she thought she could hold out, not that she seemed to be able to keep track of time thanks to the lack of routine in her treatment. Jac bit down on her bottom lip as a tremor swept through her body, her right hand spasming. She fell back onto her back with a shuddery gasp and closed her eyes.

When Teal'c had taught Jack how to kel'no'reem during that incident with Ma'chello, in what seemed a lifetime ago now, he had achieved a measure of peace with himself. A rare and precious thing, possibly matched only by the time he'd been trapped by the meteor storm on Edora or when he'd refused to leave Carter behind, trapped on the Goa'uld ship they'd sabotaged using the armbands. Since that time, and restored to his original body, Jack had taken to occasionally trying to reach that state once again. It had certainly prevented her from going completely insane during those damned time loops. Jac figured it was worth a shot if it allowed her some small measure of respite from the growing addiction that ravaged her senses. She focused on nothing, exhaled slowly, and felt the world tip away from her.

Only to find herself planted face first in the new floor of her cell as two Jaf'fa advanced on her and took her roughly by the arms. Dragged to her shaky feet, Jac was marched from the corridor and in the direction of what was now almost her second home. It seemed that the universe didn't want her to be doing any 'communing with her inner self' at this particular moment in time.

This time around, for sheer novelty it appeared, Ba'al was actually present and waiting for her in the interrogation chamber of horrors. He stood at the small console that controlled the web of mesh, his body shielding something from Jac's view. It wasn't until she was secured once more to the mesh that the snakehead actually deigned to move and she could finally see what had been hidden. A Goa'uld symbiote writhed inside a clear container of liquid.

Jac couldn't stop herself from blanching at the sight, her eyes slowly dragging themselves away from the displayed parasite to the one currently inhabiting a host. Ba'al was looking back at her, watching her reaction carefully.

**I see there is still some fight in you, O'Neill.**

"And I can see from that very silly eye-glowly deal you've got going on, that you've still got a rat-bastard snake lodged in your head," snarked Jac right back at her captor. "Want me to get rid of it for you?"

Ba'al merely smiled and moved from the console down to where Jac was pinned to the wall. He reached up a hand and gently ran it across her left cheek. Jac reacted by flinching and trying to turn her face away.

**Really now, is that how you would treat your god? You would deny him?**

The imprisoned woman groaned in annoyance. "Gee, I thought we'd got past the whole 'I am your god' stage. Work with me here, Ba'al!"

A split second later Jac was struggling to stop herself from crying out as a drop of acid began burning a path through her exposed shoulder.

**You are a fool, O'Neill. You will tell what you know, of your abilities as a hok'taur.**

Ba'al had wandered back to the console to retrieve a knife before returning to the tortured Jac who was focusing almost exclusively on ignoring the pain from her wound. As such, she hadn't seen Ba'al's movements and was caught off guard when he callously pressed the point of the blade into the acid burn. A cry tore from Jac's throat and she trashed uselessly against the mesh, trying fruitlessly to dislodge the knife from her wound. Her head sank in pain.

**It is a very simple thing, Tau'ri. Tell me what I want to know and the pain will end.**

"I don't know..." muttered Jac, exhaustion from eight straight days of abuse beginning to set in.

The parasite leaned in close once against as the blade withdrew from the burn, letting his free hand stroke and caress her face and neck. **You don't know what...?**

Jac raised her heavy head to catch Ba'al's eye and in that moment that she went to open her mouth she realized that she'd almost broken. She abruptly pulled back and cursed the snake with rather strong Goa'uld insults before deliberately yanking on her right shoulder suddenly and violently. The sickening pop as her joint was dislodged accompanied a new pain blossoming in her shoulder and chest. It was enough to clear the fog from her addled mind.

She could hear Ba'al snarled in annoyance at her defiance and as her vision folded up shop and dissolved in a haze of blackness Jac couldn't help but smile. She'd dodged the parasite for another day.

Pentagon

December 3rd, 2004

1127 hrs

It had taken SG-1 some doing, and some fast talking with Landry that basically involved them selling the trip to Washington as them going to talk to Hammond about the illegitimacy of Captain O'Neill's identity. The three members of SG-1 did not mention the fact that they would also use this as an opportunity to quiz the older man about the missing General O'Neill, nor did Landry himself mention it. Which left the three to ponder whether their commanding officer knew that they had an ulterior motive in making the trip.

Although they had no way of knowing, Landry didn't know the specifics of their other plans. He had however worked out that they had plans beyond what they had told him, going as far as observing such to Dr. Brightman when she'd come to his office to discuss some other matter. Her rather coy handling of the conversation had pricked up Landry's interest and he realized that whatever it was that SG-1 was planning to do in Washington, that his chief medical officer had some idea of whatever it was. Although he'd only been the CO of the base for roughly three months, Landry felt somewhat affronted that his premiere team had confided in Brightman and not himself.

As he stood and looked at the dormant gate sitting in the empty gateroom, SG-1 long since gone to Washington, Landry had to wonder what the New Year had in store for the base and his people. While some of his fellow Generals might have mocked the observation, Landry could feel something in his bones that boded toward big and terrible events for the coming year. General Hank Landry was not the sort of man to ignore such a feeling. No, something was going to happen soon and whatever it was Landry knew that somehow SG-1 were going to end up in the thick of it.

SG-1 meanwhile all stood somewhat awkwardly in Lieutenant General George S. Hammond's office at the Pentagon. Despite having worked with the man for seven years, the three of them were ill at ease in his new office as they waited for the man himself to arrive and grace them with his presence. Perhaps it was because of the issue of Captain O'Neill, but Daniel knew that it was because they were going to spring the topic of Jack on the older man.

The whole situation with Jack being seemingly unobtainable twenty-four-seven had been slowly getting to the archaeologist. It had first manifested itself as a somewhat overzealous interest in Sam's life outside the SGC with Shanahan. Then it was Daniel almost telling himself that he'd been looking out for Jack's interests when the man in question wasn't there to do it for himself. When he'd finally cleared the air with that issue and agreed with Sam to let her deal with it in her own way, and to live with whatever choice she made, his subconscious worry about his ex-team mate had begun to surface in the form of nightmares. They had been especially bad off world.

Part of that was the younger man simply worrying about what the Air Force had Jack doing since he wasn't in Washington, nor at the SGC. The rest was, as Daniel had on occasion tried to convince himself otherwise when he'd disagreed with a decision of Jack's, down to the fact that he actually cared about the older man. It wasn't quite an older-younger brother sibling relationship, nor was it the brothers-in-arms thing that Teal'c had going on with Jack, but whatever it was called; it was a shared sense of regard, respect and care, even if Jack had acted as if it was none of those three in many an instance. It was something, an understanding perhaps, that had helped the two men through many a trying time since they'd been lumped together on the original Abydos mission.

Since Jack's promotion to Brigadier General Daniel had felt some sense of loss, not that he'd been able to put a word to the sensation at the time as he'd been too wrapped up in _not_ going as part of the Atlantis expedition. It had only been in the light of Teal'c's observations of the distance between all three of themselves and Jack that the archaeologist had begun to understand the way he'd been feeling. Now he was here, with Sam and Teal'c, three months into an attempt to restore that part of himself he'd not realized he had missed until it taken out of his reach.

A quick glance at his two teammates told Daniel that both of them obviously felt the same way, although with Sam he wasn't sure if there wasn't something more to it on her part. That gave him pause for thought, wondering if Sam was feeling the effect of separation to a greater degree than either himself or Teal'c due to the unresolved nature of her attachment to her ex-CO.

It was at that point that the man that they had been waiting silently for entered the room and nodded to each of them in turn. "SG-1, it is good to see you all again."

"Sir."

"Ah... hi... General."

"GeneralHammond."

Hammond took his place behind his desk, dropping the large pile of folders in his arms into an untidy stack on the desk. He gestured for the three still standing to take a seat, which caused a moment of hesitation in that there were only two seats on the opposite side of the desk. A quick look between the Jaf'fa and the archaeologist sorted that out; Teal'c arched eyebrow suggesting that the younger man take the seat while he himself remained standing. A moment or two of shuffling and Lt. Colonel Carter and Dr. Jackson were arranged comfortably in their seats with Teal'c standing straight at their backs.

"While it is good to see you all again, I'm sure that this isn't purely a social call."

"No, Sir," confirmed Carter. "A potential security risk has come to our attention."

"And you bring it my attention, because...?"

"Well... Sir," began Daniel, "we've already informed Landry of the situation and thought it best that you were kept in the loop, so to speak."

"Thank you for you consideration, Doctor Jackson. Now may I know what this supposed security issue is?"

"They are referring to the female O'Neill who was assigned to the SGC," explained Teal'c with his usual mannered delivery.

"Captain O'Neill?" The raising of this issue caught Hammond flat-footed. A quick glance at the three arrayed before him suggested that the events of P5X-878 weren't know to them, and that this was a security problem. What had Jack... _Jac_ done now, especially given she wasn't due on the base til next month. "What is the issue with her?"

"You see, General, Jack told me all about his family when we were on Abydos and I _know_ he didn't have any siblings. No siblings, no niece. So there is no way that Captain O'Neill can be who she claims to be."

"Really?" Hammond dragged out the word in order to stall for time to think of an appropriate response.

"Yes, Sir," answered Sam, backing her teammate up. "In fact, Daniel managed to track down Jon and have him confirm that Jack had no family beyond Sara and Charlie."

"Jon?" George was starting to feel a little out of his depth. Things were moving very quickly on this matter it seemed, and if he wanted any chance of Jac getting the opportunity to serve at the SGC once more he'd have to put his foot down.

"The clone of Jack that the Asgaard created, General," supplied Daniel.

"Oh."

"Indeed," observed the Jaf'fa. "Yet we remain with the problem of O'Neill."

Hammond sighed and turned to one of his many drawers where he proceeded to pull out a very thick file. Resting his hands on the folder and linking his fingers together he sized up SG-1. "What I am about to talk to you about," he said gravely, "is of an extremely high security clearance and is not, I repeat _not_, to be spoken of outside this room."

"Sir?"

Opening the file the General gathered his thoughts together. "The man you three know of as General Jack O'Neill is not quite the same man you thought he was."

"If this is about Jack being a false identity, sort of like a witness protection program, then we're already up to speed with that," cut in the archaeologist with a glance at Teal'c and Sam.

"Then you understand that the O'Neill identity is one created by the US government?"

The three nodded, and then Teal'c spoke. "You wish us to understand, GeneralHammond, that this female O'Neill too is a false identity?"

Hammond nodded. "Think of 'O'Neill' as a stock name that has been used to provide the new cover."

"But," began Daniel, leg bouncing in agitation, "surely choosing a name similar to Jack's was only going to have her uncovered? Especially by ourselves when she joins SG-1."

It was at this point Hammond was brutally reminded of why a good line of communication was needed. Obviously, things had been happening at the SGC that had significantly altered the plans of the President and the Joint Chiefs if Jac had somehow ended up assigned to SG-1 and not SG-5 as planned.

"Doctor Jackson, we were not aware that O'Neill had unwisely divulged any information on his background, thus making the appearance of Captain O'Neill as his niece suspicious. But you have to understand that we wanted Jacqueline at the SGC as soon as possible, and having her play the part of Jack's niece seemed like the easiest way to slot her into the existing structure."

"Plus it would help reinforce the O'Neill identity, wouldn't it?" probed Carter.

"There is that," admitted Hammond, silently cursing the Joint Chiefs for their huge lack of imagination, "But the priority was getting Jac set up with her new life straight away."

"So she's got problems she has to hide from too?" queried Daniel. "Any chance you might let us know what they are should they come back to bite SG-1 on the ass?"

Hammond ignored the angry-sarcastic comment from the younger man. "Let me ask you this, Doctor Jackson," he began with some heat in his voice, "did anything from General O'Neill's identity prior to being a part of the Air Force _ever_ interfere with the SGC in any way?"

"Well... no."

"Then I think you can rest easy tonight. Nothing from Captain O'Neill's past life will interfere with SG-1 or the SGC."

"In other words, Sir," summarized Lt. Colonel Carter, "this isn't a security issue at all. The false nature of Captain O'Neill's identity is already known to the Air Force and you're essentially asking for us to drop the matter lest we draw more attention to her."

"Thank you, Colonel. That is _exactly_ what I'm trying to convey to the three of you." Hammond closed the folder when he caught Daniel trying to read the contents upside down. "Now, there are a couple of questions I have for you."

"Go ahead, Sir."

"Who else other than you three are aware of Captain O'Neill status?"

"Beyond us, just General Landry and Jon O'Neill."

"The clone?"

Carter nodded.

"Fine. I'll call Landry once you're gone and tell him to keep a lid on what he knows." Hammond turned to Daniel. "Is the clone going to let slip about Captain O'Neill?"

Daniel shook his head. "As far as Jon is concerned, it is our 'problem'. He wants nothing more than to get on with his new life."

"Good, now what is this about O'Neill being a part of SG-1. I had her assigned to SG-5 before my return to the Pentagon."

"SG-5 did not return from P5X-878, GeneralHammond," announced Teal'c with a slight bowing on his head in memory of the missing SG members. "They are considered 'dead in movement'."

"That's 'killed in action'," corrected Sam, who was acknowledged by Teal'c once again nodding his head, this time in thanks. "Because of that, Sir," continued the blonde, "General Landry needed to reassign her. I got a look at her file and asked that she be assigned to our team."

"So she will be joining you on missions from January then?" Hammond had to wonder just how Jac felt about that. Jac had made it clear that taking on a new identity worked best when _not_ interacting with the parts of the past identity, a plan that the clone was obviously following, and as such, it was going to be tested just by being at the SGC. Being a part of SG-1 was just asking for Jac's new identity to fall apart. She wasn't even on site yet and already SG-1 had worked out it was a false identity.

"Well...that may be a problem," winced Daniel. "She went off world with five other assorted SG members in an attempt to 'rescue' us from Ba'al."

Hammond was definitely going to be talking to Landry. "I take it the mission was successful since you are here?"

"In a sense, Sir," said Carter. "We weren't prisoners of Ba'al, but were trapped on the planet as his Jaf'fa held the gate. One of the rescue team died, Major Killian, and we escaped. However, Captain O'Neill was attacked by a glider during our escape and was unable to leave the planet with us. We've since established that she was taken prisoner by Ba'al."

Sitting back in his chair Hammond shook his head slightly. Not even supposed to be officially on duty for another month and already Jac gets herself stranded off world with a Goa'uld.

"We're planning on rescuing her," said Daniel, misinterpreting the General's pensive mood. "We have a pretty good idea where Ba'al's ha'tak will set down next and will be ready to retrieve her, Sir."

Ba'al's ha'tak, en route to Thannen

December 4th, 2004

0152 hrs

Jac's shoulder ached. Her body was covered in blood that had once belonged to her. Jac's hand continued to spasm on occasion. Her left eye was swollen and wouldn't open anymore. The bones of her right foot were all broken and the result on any pressure on the offended limb would result in her blacking out and waking to new bruises from her fall. Jac's lungs struggled to take deep breaths, forcing to her to breathe shallowly and often. Jac's back and knees continued to protest their abuse.

It had been three days since she'd defied Ba'al's attempts to break her down. She'd wrenched her currently still pained shoulder out of the socket it belonged to in order to stop herself from telling the pathetic snakehead anything he might want to know. It was a tad childish to spite her captor in such a manner, but if she spilled anything that could have led to someone back at the SGC being hurt she would not have forgiven herself. It had been a last minute thing when she had realized just exactly what Ba'al had been up to.

Her random series of interrogation-cum-torture sessions had suddenly struck her as anything but random. Ba'al had been trying to whittle down her resolve through the time-honoured technique of good cop/bad cop. Although out here in the wide universe, it might have another name perhaps? Good Jaf'fa/Bad Jaf'fa? Jac began to laugh at the thought til her ribs and then the rest of her body protested at the movement with pain.

There had been no other player involved, the Goa'uld taking to playing both 'good' and 'bad cops'. That might have been simply because as a Goa'uld he wasn't keen on doing anything with an equal, which would have required bringing in another Goa'uld. However, Jac had noticed a disturbing trend in the way he'd treat her during the sessions, with torture seemingly dispensed at random during the interrogations. She'd finally realized, in that brief moment before she'd told him anything, that he'd essentially been doing to her what Jac had read about as something some men in abusive relationships had done to their partners back on Earth.

Ba'al had been treating her generally with charm, or as much as the parasite could pretend to muster, lashing out with pain when she seemingly broke some unstated rule. Rules that changed all the time so that there was no common factor that would set the Goa'uld off. It was essentially a 'relationship' designed to train her to try and please him for fear of receiving pain, only to have him hurt her randomly so that there was no pattern of behaviour for her to count on. In other words, if Jac couldn't count on a certain response to certain behaviour of hers, then the idea was that she'd _always_ do what he wanted for fear of that time being the time she made a mistake.

It was at that point, with her broken that she figured he was planning to implant her with the parasite that he'd had on display. After all, was that not the simplest way to gain use of any further prison devices that he obtained, rather than spending potentially years trying to reverse engineer them. No wonder he'd been so damned happy at finding a hok'taur.

What Ba'al had not counted on was Jac eventually realizing what he'd been trying to train her and breaking the cycle by ruining her shoulder and blacking out. The Goa'uld however was not stupid enough to try returning to training her, realizing that to do so would simply be a waste of time. That was why she'd not been in the sarcophagus since blacking out during that session, and why she lay on the floor of her cell as her broken body tried to deal with going cold turkey. It had taken just over twenty-four hours for her to break out in a sweat and the spasms in her hand to grow almost uncontrollable.

Now, three days on from the interrogation, she knew she was in a bad state. Up til this point, during the cycle of sessions with the parasite, Jac had made use of her time in her cell to mentally prepare for an escape attempt should an opportunity present itself. However, the way she was now did not lend itself to making an escape from a heavily armed and Jaf'fa infested ha'tak. There was a good chance that these four cream walls might end up being her grave.

SGC

December 6th, 2004

1527 hrs

General Hank Landry sighed as he studied the folder in front of him, not really listening to Colonel Munro as he waded his way through his list of complaints about the still-missing-off-world Captain O'Neill. The monitoring devices, on the two planets that SG-1 figured were the two likely spots for Ba'al to turn up if he was looking for Ancient artefacts, had not so much as twitched since they had been set up. But Landry wasn't really surprised since Teal'c had assured him that the quickest that the ha'tak could get to either one of them would be a couple of days from now.

And, if Captain O'Neill was pulled from Ba'al's clutches then the enigma of a SG member would be walking at best, by stretcher if need be, into a firestorm of an investigation. The General had already fielded a phone call from Hammond at the Pentagon ordering him to drop any deeper look into the background of the newly assigned Captain, something backed up by a sheepish looking SG-1 when they returned. Whoever she was, she was at the SGC because the Pentagon wanted her there. Landry didn't want to mess with anything like that, especially not so soon into his assignment here. While he still getting used to how the place operated, he was sure he was going to like working here.

Hence, Munro's decision to pursue his complaint against the Captain was beginning to give the General a headache. How was he meant to drop the issue of Captain O'Neill's background and smooth over any troubled waters that may have arisen, if he had one of his men bent on having her thrown out of the Air Force in direction contrast to the 'between the lines' wishes of the Pentagon. If Munro wanted to make a case out of this he was going to want to see her file, and if SG-1 saw through the Captain's new identity then there was a chance that Munro might just do so too.

The sad thing was that Landry knew _exactly_ what it was that was driving the Colonel to formally file his complaint against the newly assigned Captain. It had nothing to do with following orders that may or may not have saved the life of Major Killian. Hank had seen through the man shortly after becoming CO of the base and that had been why he had been happy to simply let General O'Neill's choice of second-in-command for the base stand. Carter had been the pick of the people for the job and that wasn't going to change just because General O'Neill was gone.

As a side benefit, it had had the effect of squelching the rumours that she'd slept with her ex-CO for the position. Although they'd been replaced by rumours she slept with him, of all people, in order to maintain her position. Landry had a gut feeling that if he was able to follow those rumours to their source that they'd simply lead him to the man currently sitting across from him over the table. Closing the ubiquitous manila folder in front of him, Landry cleared his throat that caused Munro to stop mid-sentence.

"I'm going to have to stop you there, Munro."

The Colonel gave Landry a strange look, almost as if he was seeing some conspiracy that wasn't there. "Sir?"

"Look, don't you think you are somewhat overreacting to the events of P2X-117?"

"No, Sir, I don't," bit out Munro. "Her direct violation of orders led to the death of Major Killian."

"If you weren't there, then how do you know?"

"Because the Major was able to tell me before that bastard Goa'uld let him die!"

"Steady, Munro," urged Landry, not wanting the man to break into a loud rant in his office. There was a pause. "So, the Major wasted his last breath defaming a newly assigned officer to the SGC. Why?"

Munro twitched, but kept his voice moderated. "Because, like myself, Major Killian did not like serving with incompetent people. People like _her_ only do one thing and that is get other people killed."

Landry could hear the venom in Munro's tone and knew that there was going to be no way that he could talk the Colonel out of a formal complaint. Landry offered up a silent prayer because if SG-1 were able to retrieve the Captain, as they believed they could, and then she would need all the help she could get to survive Munro.

xxx

Samantha Carter's apartment, Colorado Springs

December 7th, 2004

2031 hrs

Sam stepped out of her shower and towelled herself dry, taking a moment or two to check out her appearance in the bathroom mirror. She looked, and felt, a little tired. Since the sudden departure of Jack... _the General_, to God-knows-where, she had been somewhat on edge. Not quite able to relax til she knew that the man who had been her CO was alive and safe. That Daniel had been suffering from nightmare told her that he too was worried about Jack.

Dumping her towel into the dirty washing hamper beside the sink, Carter slid into her pyjamas and exited the bathroom, flicking the lights off as she did so. Her apartment was quiet, apart from the occasional click and hum of the refrigerator, and that left her alone with her thoughts. Back on base, she had the distraction of other SGC personnel or that blasted artefact from P8X-345, which she still hadn't managed to discover what it did. Here she had nothing to hide behind and alone to think wasn't conducive to a good nights sleep.

She was idly rooting through her collection of annotated scientific journals for some light reading in bed when the phone began to ring. Dropping the magazines in her hands, she quickly collected the receiver from its cradle. "Hello?"

"Hey, Sam!"

"Cassandra? Oh, it's good to hear from you!" Sam had a genuine smile on her face, possibly the first in a long time, as she crawled onto her sofa and curled up, feet tucked under her backside.

"Yeah, well, I don't mean to sound rude, but I'm calling because I'm getting a disconnected signal from Jack's number."

"Oh," sighed Sam, so much for a distraction from that eighty-pound gorilla in the lounge. "Well, that's because he's not in Colorado Springs anymore."

"He's not? Why would Jack leave without telling me?"

Sam rubbed her eyes tiredly with her free hand. "That's probably because he didn't get a chance to tell anyone he was going. We got back from a mission to find Hammond in temporary charge of the base."

"So where is he?" asked Cassandra.

"We don't know," admitted Sam.

"Classified, huh? I thought Jack said 'no more' after that sting thing a few years back?"

"So did we, but it seems somebody, somewhere, had some leverage on him because he's gone and we have no idea where he is or what he's doing."

"He didn't leave a message? Or made contact since?" Cassandra sounded a little worried and Sam didn't really know how to assuage that fear since she too was worried about Jack's fate.

"Not as far as we know. Daniel, Teal'c, and I even went to the Pentagon to talk to General Hammond about the situation."

"What did George have to say?"

Sam had to grin at Cassandra's casual use of General Hammond's first name. Since she'd become a part of the Air Force, and especially since she'd fallen under Hammond's command at the SGC, Carter had found it more than a little difficult to call the man George as she had done when he'd simply been a colleague of her father's. The young woman on the other end of the phone however had no such obstacle.

"I've never seen him dig in like that, Cassie. He just point-blank refused to answer our questions about O'Neill."

"For heaven's sake, Sam, you won't be struck dead by lightning if you call him Jack!" cried Cassandra.

Sam found herself making an apologetic face even though she was on the phone. "Right," she half-heartedly agreed. "Anyway, Daniel was of the opinion that Hammond was possibly under some sort of pressure."

"You mean like the time that Jack told me about, when the NID threatened his grand kids?"

"Something like that, Cassie. Whatever the reason was, General Hammond was either unwilling or unable to tell us where _Jack_ was reassigned to." Sam sighed. "I agree with Daniel, there was just something in his tone of voice that told me that it was the latter. He wants to tell us, but can't."

"And that's just it?" protested Cassandra. "You're all just going to give up?"

"Well," began Sam rather apologetically, "we don't have any other leads to follow up with unless something new arises. We _want_ to find him; we just don't know where to look."

"You have to keep trying," the younger woman pleaded down the phone line, "He could be closer than you think and you won't find him if you stop looking."

"I know, I know." Sam huffed in frustration. "Why were you trying to phone... Jack anyway?"

"Oh!" exclaimed Cassie. "I was hoping to make some sort of Christmas holiday plans with him. Teal'c goes back to Chulak for the break and Daniel usually has some sort of dig to investigate with his free time."

Sam smiled sadly, knowing that in the silence that both of them were thinking about the much-missed Janet Fraiser. "All the more reason we find him then."

"And quickly!" agreed Cassandra.

"I have a thought," broached Sam.

"Yup?"

"Well, do you want to join me for Christmas? I pretty sure if I try hard enough I can tempt Daniel away from playing in the sand, if you'd like?"

"Oh, Sam, that would be so cool. It'd be great to spend some time with you guys. If sometimes feel so disconnected from you all, here at University." The younger woman was practically gushing.

"Well then," said Sam, happy to be able to talk about something positive for a change, "how about you send me all your details and I'll book some flights for you? I might even be able to get Teal'c to drop by."

"Could you? Tell him I'd love to see him again. This is going to be a great Christmas, Sam! I can't wait to see you all."

With a rough plan of attack settled upon for the approaching holiday season, the two women embarked on a discussion of a large variety of topics, both important and inane, as they talked well into the night.

Peter Shanahan's apartment, Denver

2107 hrs

Pete Shanahan had to admit to himself that he was more than a little surprised to see Mark Carter on the doorstep to his apartment less than two weeks after the man had made a similar trip to Denver. Then, it had been in response to a phone conversation the two friends had engaged in about Samantha Carter. Pete's revelation about Sam's hesitation over the wedding proposed for the April of next year, it seemed, was more than enough to have her brother Mark suddenly book himself a flight to Denver. From there, Pete had found himself persuaded by Mark into travelling with him to visit Sam.

That evening conversation with the Air Force Lt. Colonel could have gone better. Pete was surprised that his friend Mark had come away in one piece after trying to tell his sister how to live her life, and the argument between the two had been enough to open Pete's eyes to just how Samantha viewed their relationship. He'd been forced to admit to himself that he'd gone into the relationship with some preconceived views about Sam, some perhaps fostered by her brother with whom he talked often on the phone, and that those views might not gel as well as he thought they might with what Sam wanted from married life.

She'd made it clear that even if she became married, that she would continue to be a part of the Air Force and by extension the SGC. In other words, she wasn't about to give up travelling off world via the stargate. Both Mark and Pete had believed that she would leave the USAF and settle into the role of a mother once she married, a view that Mark still held to.

Pete had been disabused of that idea and many others, by that strained brother-sister conversation in late November, and had done as he had vowed to do. He had put some serious thought into his relationship with Sam and what he felt they both wanted from it. So far he'd come to only one conclusion. That he was still in love with Sam and wished to marry her He didn't know yet whether it was a good idea or not.

"I thought it was my turn to visit you, Mark," Pete tried to comment casually on finding his friend at the door.

Mark shrugged his shoulders. "Who's counting?"

Who indeed? thought Pete. "Do you want to come in?"

"I've a better idea," said Mark. "Grab a coat and follow me."

The Denver police officer just knew deep in his bones that this was not about their friendship, but about Sam. Mark had obviously had enough of licking his 'wounds' after November's battle of words with Samantha and was planning round two. Shaking his head in resignation Pete step back into his apartment and grabbed a warm coat of the sofa. He might remember to hang it up at Sam's, but here in _his_ apartment he did as he felt. Tugging the garment on he snatched up his keys and joined Mark outside the front door. Apartment locked, the pair made their way to the lift.

Mark had led his friend to a rental car and the two of them had proceeded to hit the streets in search of a good drinking establishment. Although they made good conversation, catching up on the little that had changed in their lives since they'd last met face to face, Pete had spent the entire trip with his guts twisting and turning. Mark Carter was definitely up to something and by the looks of it, he was hoping to rope Pete into participating. That wouldn't wear well with Pete's unvoiced resolution to himself and Sam to give her the time and space she needed.

The bar that Mark had eventually picked out was not one that Pete had frequented before, so that at least gave him something to think about instead of the impending conversation. At first, the topics of discussion had kept to relatively safe, neutral topics, as the pair consumed their first couple of rounds of beer. There had been a little heated debate over sports, which involved the light tossing of some beer snacks. That ended when a passing waitress had asked them to stop. Rounds three and four had followed and had delved into slightly murkier territory, namely Pete's work. Pete hadn't been able to give much in the way of details, but have told what he thought was a masterful retelling of one of his most recent cases involving a double homicide.

Rounds five and six, and here they'd only been at the bar for forty-five minutes at the most, quickly followed on the heels of the previous four. Pete had, by this point, voiced his concerns about driving back to his apartment under the influence and Mark had waved him off, brandishing a taxi company business card in order to quell his friend's reservations. With transport home assured, those two new rounds had been slung back with abandon. Mark had told a few ribald jokes and complained about his co-workers. By round seven, where Pete had played with his nose and couldn't really feel anything with the appendage, the police officer had almost forgotten his fears about Mark's possible ulterior motives for turning up in Denver so soon after their last get together.

It was with round eight, now roughly an hour into their joint drinking session, that Mark brought up the blindingly obvious fact that the Christmas holiday season was upon them. Mark it seemed had hit upon what he thought was a masterful plan and Pete's internal warning system went to DefCon 3. From what the police officer could discern from Mark's occasionally rambling explanation was that he was bringing his family to Colorado Springs and was planning to have Christmas with Sam and their father there. Mark had reasoned as such since both Sam and their father seemed to spend most of their time there.

A slight interruption had taken place at this point, both to allow the gentlemen in question quick pit stops in the men's room to use the facilities and to allow the delivery of round nine. Pete was beginning to question if he could even taste the beer he was drinking now, so muzzy now was his head. Mark's return from the restrooms had prompted his open invitation to Pete to join the Carter's in their Christmas celebration.

If he'd been a little more sober Pete probably wouldn't have agreed so readily, but the drink had worn down his resolve to give Sam her space. He was sure he loved her and that brief meeting at her apartment in November wasn't enough for him. He wanted the opportunity to be in her presence again, to be able to hold her and talk to her the way he wanted to when they'd been dating.

At least one brain cell must have been firing, because during the consumption of round ten Pete had managed to ask his friend if he'd actually made sure that both Sam and their father (Jason wasn't it?) were able to attend. Mark had brushed off Pete's concern when he admitted that 'no, he hadn't', because nothing would be of greater priority than a Carter family Christmas, especially after years of estrangement. That was when the now very drunk Peter Shanahan had made a mistake that would come back to haunt him.

Pete proceeded to point out to Mark that something might arise at Christmas that could mean that Sam, and her father, would be unable to attend.

"What the hell could that possibly be, Pete? Santa's reindeer break down and he needs a lift from the good ol' Air Force?" chuckled Mark, slightly angry. "Oh, I know! Sam's needed to do some deep space telemetry because the star of Bethlehem is back!"

"Nah," said Pete as he drained his pint glass, "more likely those bastard, freaky aliens with the glowing eyes will make a come back and try and kidnap someone from her team. Or they'll try and take over the planet, again."

"Freaky aliens?" queried Mark as he tried to process just exactly what his friend had said.

"Yeah," exclaimed Pete as he got into the telling of how he'd followed Sam in her work one day.

"Aliens?" wondered Mark after the story had been told, complete with appropriate exaggerations. "You've got to be pulling my leg, Pete. Sam's with that deep space ... radar... telemetry... thingy."

Shanahan started laughing into his new glass of beer. "Jeez, Mark! You actually believe that cock n' bull cover story about what they do under that mountain, don't you?"

Mark looked affronted at having his intelligence insulted. Or at least, looked as affronted as he could with ten beers under his belt. "Right," he drawled.

"No shit, I'm telling you the truth, Mark. Your sister spends her time day tripping all over the galaxy and going Sigourney Weaver on alien asses."

Pete's friend didn't know whether to laugh or cry at that piece of hyperbole from Shanahan. In the end, he simply told the Denver police officer that he thought he'd had enough for one night if he was going to be making up tales about his sister being some alien fighting super babe. That wasn't something a brother wanted to think of his sister as. To illustrate that it really was the end, Mark had called a taxicab and the pair had staggered into the back seat when it arrived at a quarter past eleven. They'd spent five or so minutes outside on the sidewalk, letting the biting cold of an early December night in Denver sober them up a little. It seemed to work, as Pete was able to give coherent directions to his apartment, where Mark was going to crash on the couch.

While the following morning would see Mark remember to reissue his invitation for Pete to join the Carter family for Christmas, Pete wouldn't recall just what he'd told his friend in a moment of drunken weakness, at least, not until it was important.

SGC

December 8th, 2004

1004 hrs

It was a rather more chipper Lt. Colonel Samantha Carter who had strolled into the SGC that morning when compared to the one that had moped about the facility following SG-1's return from Washington the previous week. Her late night conversation with Cassandra Fraiser the night before had allowed her a small oasis of normality, and something of the sort of woman-to-woman talks that she had hoped, and did still hope, to have with Captain O'Neill. Sam had to admit to herself that thanks to the largely male environment of the Air Force, and her own position within the SGC, that she didn't really interact with many of the women on the base.

There had been Janet Fraiser, and on occasion Jennifer Hailey, but, on the whole, Sam had been one woman in a sea of men. Cassandra's call had allowed her to unburden herself of many things she'd been keeping to herself, and if Daniel's rescue plan went... to plan, then she might just have another person to _talk_ to in the form of Jack's niece. She wished she could have talked of these things with Daniel or Teal'c, no slight intended, but sometimes it was simply easier to talk about them with another woman.

The upshot of this was that Samantha Carter felt refreshed in a way she'd not felt since she'd taken what she'd seen as a positive step in her life and started dating again. It was this positive attitude, and her plans to corner Daniel and Teal'c into, at the very least, making an appearance at a Christmas celebration for Cassie, which had prompted Sam to return to probing the artefact brought back from P8X-345 and with which she had previously made little progress. Thus she could be found seated on her favourite stool and looking through a large magnifying glass at the raised markings on the surface of the device as she tried to make it work.

Daniel had already established that the object was of Ancient in origin. As such, it would probably not work for anybody who did not possess the ATA gene, but she held out hope that she might just be able to jury-rig some sort of interface that would allow such a device to be operated without the need for the correct genetic history in the user's background. Humming to herself, she worked on fixing another delicate connection to the device, joining a twisted rope of over fifty other wires that ran from the artefact to another object. This object utilized Goa'uld crystal technology and used a SGC standard issue laptop as the human interface.

Wire attached, Sam turned to the laptop and tapped a series of commands into the command dialogue box. Nothing happened, but then she had not really expected anything. Anyway, in science a non-result always told you just as much as a result did, the upbeat Lt. Colonel told herself. Clearly, nothing was going to upset her mood this morning. Sam tapped a series of new command lines into the code running the artefact/laptop interface in order to tweak the sensitivity of the connection. In a sense, she was trying to replicate the effect of someone with an ATA gene holding the device in their hand and hoped that with enough connections and the correct interpretation of the impulses sent back and forth, that she could get the thing to work.

With a soft beep the computer told Carter that the new code had been assimilated into the interface. She tapped the activation order into the laptop once more and turned to survey the Ancient device to see if anything had changed. Basic science, she mused. Observe, change something, observe again, and then compare observations. Again nothing.

At this point Daniel decided that it had to be morning teatime and gatecrashed her laboratory space. "Come on, Sam," he wheedled, "I need my coffee."

"Just give me a couple more minutes, Daniel. I just need to connect and test this configuration, and then I'll join you for your regular Coffee Addicts Anonymous meeting in the commissary." Carter was busy attaching another wire to the device, as well as rearranging several of the ones already connected.

Daniel stood on the other side of the table, bouncing lightly on his feet as he watched Sam go about her methodical investigation of the object. The archaeologist wished her luck with her endeavour, since he'd had the object first to study and had not been able to determine anything from it all. He glanced at his watch and realized that Teal'c had to be in the commissary already and was probably waiting for them to arrive. Unlike some on the base, the Jaf'fa had good manners and always waited for the rest of SG-1 to arrive before collecting his own meal.

Laying her tools down on the bench, Sam once again turned to the laptop and studied the readouts. She ran a diagnostic and was delighted to note that several relays were indicating that they were receiving impulses from the device.

"From that grin I'd say that you think you're getting somewhere with this thing," observed Daniel.

Sam looked up at him with a grin, knowing the younger man had been a little annoyed at not being able to learn anything about the object from his extensive collection of sources about the Ancients. It wasn't the first time that, after his ascension, the archaeologist wished that he'd been allowed to at least retain more knowledge of the Ancients than he did. Knowing that he once knew everything about them he'd ever need to know, but now couldn't know, was almost enough to drive him insane.

"Well," explained Sam, "I think I've almost got the interface working to the point where we'll actually be able to have a go at turning it on. We might not be able to actually use it straight away, but at least if we can turn it on then we'll know that my idea of a computer interface to replicate the effect of the ATA gene is more than just a theory."

"One up for us, huh?"

Sam nodded and tapped several strings of additional code into the laptop command line. "I just need to tweak the settings and sensitivity... there, that should be enough to try and start it up once more."

"Just a quick question," interjected Daniel, "before you turn this thing on."

"Daniel?"

"Do you have any idea of what this device does?" Daniel was playing with his glasses in worry. It wasn't as if this was the first time the SGC had tested some alien device, and their track record was something that Janet Fraiser had complained about rather loudly. Either it wouldn't work, or more likely, it would create mayhem on the base.

"No," admitted Sam, "do you?"

"Well, from what I _could_ make out from what little is left in the way of markings on the device, I think it is supposed to 'recreate the past'."

Sam had paused, her fingers above the keys needed to type the activation command. "'Recreate the past'? What does that mean, Daniel?"

"Well, I don't know exactly." Daniel rushed on, "I'm just saying that maybe we should take a little more time with studying this thing before we try and turn it on."

"Daniel," sighed Sam, "we've been _studying_ this thing for months now. Since June in fact, when SG-16 brought it back from P8X-345. If we don't turn it on I don't think we'll ever learn anything more about it."

"Are you at least sure that it won't blow the base up?" queried Daniel, beginning to inch his way to the laboratory door.

"Of that I'm sure, Daniel. There appears to be no reactive elements in that in any way resemble any sort of weapon we've come across. I don't think it is a weapon at all, which is why I want to turn it on. I want to know what it actually _does_!"

"Okay," managed Daniel slowly.

Shaking her head slightly, Sam went ahead and tapped in the require command to hopefully activate the object. At first, nothing happened, as with the many attempts before. Then the object began to glow slightly and the readings on the laptop began to fluctuate wildly.

"So, it didn't explode," said Daniel, fishing for an explanation. "Did you get it work?"

Sam gestured to the readouts on the laptop display. "I think I've managed to turn it on, but I can't make head nor tail of these readings."

"Why?"

"They're not on any visible spectrum, and they don't appear to be lethal. This rules out it being either a communications device or a weapon."

"Time machine?" supposed Daniel.

"Pardon?"

Daniel pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm just speculating on what it might do on the basis of what I could get from the markings. 'Recreate the past' might just mean something to do with time travel."

"I don't think so, Daniel. The energy requirements would be huge and this thing isn't giving off anywhere near enough energy. Whatever it is designed to do, it is small scale."

"I suppose that means it can't blow up the base either then?"

Sam nodded and Daniel felt secure enough, in the idea that his body parts weren't about to be suddenly splattered about the base, to move closer to the table and the artefact once more. Carter had turned to her laptop again and was entering new code, trying to adjust the interface to give greater control and better readings that might just allow her to work out what it does.

"These," began Sam as she pointed to some new readings, which forced Daniel to lean at an awkward angle in order to see them, "seem to indicate that the device is close to mimicking the electrical neural connections of the human brain."

"Or perhaps the brain of an Ancient, since we know that they are 'more' evolved than ourselves," suggested Daniel.

"Right!" exclaimed Sam with a huge grin. These scientific explorations were always more fun with two. "So, it perhaps then is designed to stimulate something in the brain."

"Like a sort of virtual reality?" Daniel made a face at the idea that what they were playing with was nothing more than the Ancient's version of the gamekeeper chairs. "A toy?"

"To 'recreate the past', Daniel. How else could one experience a past time without time travel?"

Sam could see the realization come over the archaeologist.

"So," he said eagerly, "are there any past times stored in the device?" Daniel was hoping that if there was one, it might allow him to interact with the Ancients in their natural environment and learn a great deal more about them.

"Let's see, shall we?" Sam began tapping at the keyboard once more, trying to see if anything like a sort of memory file was locked inside the device by analyzing the readings that the interface was recording from the object.

Five minutes of writing new code and looking at readings was enough for Daniel's coffee addiction to begin wearing down the man's enthusiasm and he had taken to glancing at his watch every few seconds. "Come on, Sam. This can wait. My coffee can't, and anyway, Teal'c probably been waiting for us for quarter of an hour by now!"

The blonde woman raised her hand to stall the bespectacled man. "Just a second, Daniel. I think I've got it."

Instead of simply glowing as the object had done up til now, it flashed once and then returned to the steady glow. Daniel was looking about himself to see if anything had changed. From his point of view, he was still standing in Sam's lab within the SGC.

"Anything change for you, because I'm certainly not recreating the past right now?"

Sam shook her head. "I don't see or feel anything different either."

"You're sure you tweaked it to work for human rather than Ancient brains?"

"Yes, I'm sure," Sam said rather curtly. "The pattern now mimics that of a human brain. I'm just not sure why nothing has happened. The readings certainly indicate that some sort of discharge took place."

Carter was back to scanning through the readouts once more in an attempt to identify what had gone wrong. The archaeologist had other ideas, pushing the lid of the laptop down til it was closed. There were two results of this action. Firstly the device stopped glowing, returning to its original, inert state, and secondly he got a huge scowl from Sam.

"Coffee now, alien device later, come on, Sam, you need a break. You never know, inspiration might just strike you in the commissary."

"Fine," huffed Sam, and the pair wandered out into the corridor.

The walk to the commissary was conducted in silence, not from any animosity towards each other, but simply because the two of them were both considering the Ancient device. Just as Daniel had suspected, the pair found Teal'c waiting patiently for them near the entrance to the commissary. Sam and Daniel apologized to the Jaf'fa, who waved off their concern.

"I have known for some time now, DanielJackson, just how you and ColonelCarter operate when you find something of interest. I am not offended, but please, shall we eat?"

The three of them joined a short line, and were soon supplied with food and, more importantly, coffee. However, Daniel's coffee never made it to his mouth because as he looked up from his tray, once he'd sat down with Sam and Teal'c at a table, he saw his dead wife Sha're, dressed as Ammonnet had done, standing in the doorway of the commissary and brandishing a staff weapon. Before he could even say anything to his team mates, Sha're had opened fire and Daniel went tumbling from his seat as he took the full blast of the weapon on his chest.


	8. Broken

THANKS: A big thank you to Karen Joy who worked hard as my Beta on this chapter.

**EIGHT: Broken**

SGC

December 8th, 2004

1123 hrs

Daniel came to on an infirmary bed, crying out the name of his dead wife. As he struggled into sitting up and looking round he was able to process where he was and calmed down slightly. Dr. Brightman was already at the foot of his bed, looking at him with concern in her bright eyes.

"I'm glad to see you back amongst the living, Doctor Jackson," she said crisply, her slightly standoffish behaviour only serving to remind Daniel of Janet's bedside manner, and her resulting absence. "I must say you gave everyone in the commissary a shock when you collapsed."

"Collapsed?" Daniel wiped at his face with a free hand, still able to vividly picture in his mind those moments as Sha're shot him with a Jaf'fa staff weapon.

"You just keeled over, Daniel," commented Sam, as she and Teal'c approached the bed.

"Do you have a diagnosis, DoctorBrightman?" queried the Jaf'fa.

"I'm afraid not, Teal'c. We ran the usual battery of tests on him and came up a blank. It may just be stress, you've all been more than a little worried about General O'Neill's absence." Brightman couldn't help but give SG-1 a sympathetic gaze, having heard about them coming back from Hammond empty-handed, as well as Jackson's off-world nightmares. She was almost ready to make a report to General Hammond and argue that SG-1 needed to know the truth, lest the stress of waiting cause greater problems than disturbed sleep.

"What about Sha're?" asked Sam, looking to her bedridden teammate. "You called out her name when you woke up just now."

"Sha're? I thought I saw her in the commissary. She shot me with a staff weapon," explained Daniel as he felt his undamaged chest.

"Sha're has been dead for some time, DanielJackson," consoled Teal'c. "She was not present in the commissary at the time of your collapse."

"But I _saw_ her. I _felt_ it when the blast hit me. I _thought_ I was dead!"

"Obviously you are incorrect," observed Teal'c. "Did you see Sha're in the commissary ColonelCarter?"

Sam shook her head. "Is there nothing to indicate why Daniel thinks he saw what he did?"

"As I said, the tests all came back clean. Whatever caused his problem is something we haven't identified yet."

"Am I free to go?"

"You are, Doctor Jackson, but I'd like you to remain on base for the next day just in case you suffer a relapse of whatever this is."

Daniel nodded his thanks to the Doctor and struggled out of bed, Sam and Teal'c leaving the room to give him some privacy in which to change. It was as he was buttoning up his shirt that he heard Sam cry out in pain from where she was in the corridor. Still only partly dressed he rushed out to the corridor to find Carter collapsed in Teal'c's arms, the Jaf'fa obviously having caught her as she fell. With Daniel's help, the larger man was able to move the stricken woman to an empty bed in the infirmary and lay her down. Dr. Brightman was already at the Lt. Colonel's side, her team of nurses beginning the same set of tests they'd earlier performed on Daniel.

Teal'c and the archaeologist exchanged a loaded look. One person collapsing could be put down to stress, but two people within hours of each other was possibly the start of an infection. Brightman was already on the phone to Landry upstairs and recommending that the base be sealed off until the cause of the problem could be identified. Daniel shuffled back over to 'his' bed and resumed putting his clothes back, not caring about the number of people buzzing about Carter's prone form like a swarm of flies.

"'Recreate the past'," muttered Daniel as a thought occurred to him. He glanced up at Teal'c. "I think I have an idea about what may have caused this, Teal'c. I'm going to be in Sam's lab if anyone is looking for me."

Teal'c nodded in acknowledgement and returned to watching the nurses deal with Carter as Daniel made his way out of the infirmary. While Brightman's decision to call 'infection' and have the base sealed was a prudent call, Daniel felt sure that what they were dealing with wasn't biological in origin. He felt it was too much of a coincidence that shortly after Sam had managed to activate an Ancient device that was supposed to 'recreate the past', that he experience what could only be a vision of his late wife shooting him with a staff weapon.

Unfortunately, for Daniel, he'd only made it as far as the elevator on the same floor as the infirmary when he had found himself stopped by his dead mother, who then proceeded to stab him several times in the chest. He tried to tell himself that it was an illusion, that she wasn't there, just as Sha're had been fake, but she seemed so real. She looked, sounded like, and even smelled just as he remembered his mother did before she had died along with his father. That the blade she was striking deep into his body felt as equally as real didn't help either in trying to convince himself that it was simply an apparition.

With a final slashing motion Daniel found himself loosing consciousness and would be found a couple of minutes later as Landry came down to the infirmary to find out what had befallen SG-1 _this_ time. Since he'd come alone, Landry picked up the fallen archaeologist himself and carried him fireman-style back to the infirmary.

Brightman took one look at the comatose man on Landry's shoulder and scowled, directing the General to place Daniel in the bed next to Sam's, the one he'd only left a few minutes ago. Teal'c was greatly alarmed to see DanielJackson being brought back in so soon after leaving and was faced with a vigil at the bedsides of two of his teammates.

"Doctor, do you have _any_ idea what may be causing this problem? We can not afford to have SG-1 out of action for any length of time." Landry didn't like problems unless it was one that could be solved by superior military might.

"As I told SG-1, before they started dropping like flies, there doesn't appear to be any physical reason why this is happening."

"Has anyone else on the base experience similar symptoms?" asked Landry. He didn't really want to have contagion situation so early in his time here at the SGC. Hammond had lasted at least two months with a clean sheet before SG-1 had brought the 'Touched' virus back with them to the SGC.

"No, Sir. Only these two have suffered any problems, and I'm at a loss as to why."

"DanielJackson believed that he might know the cause of this situation and was planning on heading to ColonelCarter's lab to check his theory," added Teal'c without prompting.

"In that case, Sir," began Brightman, "I suggest we have her lab quarantined off from the rest of the base for now just in case. After that, we'll just have to wait for one of them to wake up so we can ask them a few questions."

xxx

Daniel was familiar enough with the infirmary ceiling to have long ago taken a dislike to seeing it. Of course, there was the fact that each time he saw the ceiling it meant something had happened to him. He'd even _passed on_ once, while looking up at the bland concrete ceiling. Therefore, there weren't a lot of good feelings attached to that ceiling and it was almost enough to make Daniel roll over on his side and pretend that he wasn't back in an infirmary bed. He did roll over, but didn't close his eyes in denial. Instead, he found himself looking at Sam, who was still resting unconsciously in the neighbouring bed.

"You are awake, DanielJackson," observed the Jaf'fa still waiting patiently by the beds.

"Yup," answered Daniel. "I'm awake. Although if this goes on much longer I'm going to wish I was asleep."

"Can you tell me what happened?"

"It was pretty much like before, I found myself being killed. This time it was a knife in the chest and I can tell that is not something I want to experience again any time soon."

"Sha're stabbed you?" asked Teal'c for clarification.

"Oh, no. No, it wasn't Sha're this time. It was my mother. She had that look on her face she used to have when I had disappointed her over something. Back then she just told me off, this stabbing thing is new."

"This is most disturbing, DanielJackson. You have now essentially been violently killed in two separate hallucinations."

"Hallucinations?" Daniel was searching about for his glasses, which Teal'c noticed and kindly retrieved for him.

"The behaviour of your visions is hardly consistent with that of the real Sha're or your mother."

Putting his glasses on, Daniel nodded his head. "You could say that."

"The fact that, at least in the case of your collapse in the commissary, no one other than yourself saw Sha're, does tend to corroborate my theory."

"I think you're right, Teal'c. It has to do with that Ancient device that was brought back from P8X-345."

"It appeared to be dead."

"It did," acknowledged Daniel, "but Sam managed to get that interface device of hers working and was able to turn the damned thing on."

At this point Dr. Brightman had entered the infirmary and noticed that one of her patients had recovered already. She was quick to move to the archaeologist's bed, clipboard in hand, as Teal'c gave her some room.

"Doctor Jackson, good to see you awake again. I would have been here already, but you've recovered faster this time."

"Doctor. How's Sam?"

All three took a quick glance at the comatose woman in the other bed.

"She seems to be suffering from whatever you are dealing with. If her symptoms play out anything like yours then we can expect her to wake in the next ten minutes, which is why I've returned. Now, can you tell me what happened?"

"It's like I was saying to Teal'c. One moment I was waiting for the elevator, the next my mother was stabbing me to death with a knife. I must have blacked out again when I 'died'."

Brightman was furiously making notes on the clipboard sheets. "Teal'c mentioned that you had a possible ID on the cause of this problem."

"I do," nodded Daniel. "Sam managed to get the device from P8X-345 working. It didn't appear to do much other than glow a bit, so we thought she'd turned it on and nothing else. Given these hallucinations however, I'm inclined to believe that she did more than just turn it on."

"On what basis?" asked Brightman, curious to know, she didn't like being unable to help her patients.

"Part of the markings that I was able to decipher from the device indicated that it was designed to 'recreate the past'. Now that fits perfectly with what I think I've seen. Both the hallucinations of Sha're and my mother were totally real to me. It was like all of my senses were fooled into believing she was really there, enough for their attacks to feel painfully real too."

"So you think turning off the device will halt the problem?" asked Teal'c.

Daniel looked over at Sam and nodded. "But I've no idea how to do that. We need Sam's help to turn it off, as I don't think she's explained how to operate the interface device to anybody yet. And we can't risk someone other than ourselves getting close to the Ancient device as they too might suffer the same effects."

"I've already had Lt. Colonel Carter's lab ordered off limits, so she'll be able to work undisturbed and hopefully no one else will be affected," explained Brightman.

Sam chose that moment to return to the world of the living. Teal'c and Brightman crossed to her bed as Daniel watched on from his.

"Carter, can you hear me?" enquired the Doctor.

"Brightman? What happened?"

"You cried out, ColonelCarter and collapsed in the corridor outside the infirmary."

"It was Martouf," Sam explained as she slowly opened her eyes and struggled to sit up. "He was waiting for me in the corridor. I didn't have time to say anything before he shot me with one of those weapons the za'tarcs had."

Sam looked at the three of them watching her. "I thought he'd killed me."

"DanielJackson believes the cause of these hallucinations is the Ancient device you activated this morning," said Teal'c, bringing ColonelCarter up to speed on current developments.

"Daniel?"

The younger man looked at the Air Force officer. "Well, it did say it was designed to 'recreate the past'."

"But I don't recall Martouf ever killing me, so how is that 'recreating the past'?"

Daniel shrugged. "I've no idea. Although Ammonet did try to kill me, I know my mother didn't. Perhaps these false historical hallucinations are a result of activating the device without really knowing how it works."

"You mean like trying to use a radio if you didn't know what it was or what it did, and suddenly, by accident, getting a radio station," summarized Carter.

"That's as good an analogy as any," accepted Daniel. "So it could be trying to show us the past, but because we've randomly got parts of it working it isn't showing us anything that really happened."

Brightman interjected at this point in the speculation. "All this theorizing is good and wonderful, folks, but you need to turn it off. You can't function on this base if you keep blacking out at random times."

Daniel and Sam nodded their head, accepting the Doctor's mild rebuke at letting their thirst for knowledge supersede the immediate problem. She was right, the last thing they needed happening was one of them collapsing in the middle of something important, or even something as simple as driving home.

"Until you can shut that machine off and you can spend a couple of days without blacking out, I'm afraid you're going to have to remain on base. That also means no off world travel for either of you."

"Ba'al's ha'tak will be arriving at one of our two monitored planets within the next forty-eight hours, DoctorBrightman. SG-1 was assigned the rescue mission to retrieve O'Neill," stated Teal'c firmly.

The two bedridden members of SG-1 looked to the medical officer hopefully. She glared at them. "Neither of you are going anywhere, and I'll make sure that Landry knows that." She turned to Teal'c. "I'm sorry, but if you want to attempt a rescue, then you're going to have to do it without these two."

December 9th, 2004

1354 hrs

With the knowledge that SG-1's problem stemmed from a piece of technology in Carter's laboratory and not a virus, Landry had dropped the quarantine status. He was delighted he still had a clean sheet, at least as far as that particular scenario went. Brightman had informed him of her decision regarding Dr. Jackson and Lt. Colonel Carter, and now Landry was busy sitting down with Teal'c in order to put together a team that would hopefully bring back Captain O'Neill with them.

"Do you have anyone in mind for this mission, Teal'c?"

"I do, GeneralLandry. I would request that Lt. Sanderson of SG-7 join the rescue team."

"Sanderson?" Landry then recalled that the Lieutenant was one of those who'd been sent to P2X-117, along with Captain O'Neill, in order to find SG-1. "Are you sure?" Sanderson was Air Force, but not terribly experienced in off-world military scenarios. He was serving with SG-7, which was made up primarily of scientists and of which Sanderson himself was one too. He was the team's military coordinator, a part of the team just in case it ran up against hostiles while off world.

"I am sure," responded Teal'c calmly.

"Okay," Landry said as he threw Sanderson's file into a new pile reserved for those who would be joining Teal'c in the rescue attempt.

The phone on Landry's desk began to ring and he apologized to the Jaf'fa as he answered it.

"Landry, here." There was a long pause as he listened to person on the other end of the line. "Thank you for keeping me informed. He's here in my office, so I can pass on the information."

Hanging up the phone Landry looked back at Teal'c. "That was Doctor Brightman. Both Jackson and Carter are back in the infirmary from blacking out again."

Teal'c nodded, his face showing none of the concern he felt about his teammates. Since the cause of the problem had been established, the pair had been working almost non-stop in Carter's lab in an attempt to find a way to turn the effect of the device off without causing more problems like spreading the hallucinations to the rest of the base. Their work was being hampered, however, but the simple fact that every now and then one of them would collapse from another vivid hallucination that ended with them being killed by someone they knew.

It was now at a point where they only had between half to three quarters of an hour between each 'episode' and Brightman was already beginning to note signs of fatigue (despite both getting a good nights sleep). She'd tested them both this morning for response times and situational awareness to find that they were a touch below par for both. It usually took calling their names a couple of times to get their attention, and their reaction to pain was dulled. The only time they showed any sort of normal levels of response to stimuli was in the moments before another 'episode'.

The Jaf'fa had confidence in his friends that, despite the obstacles in their way, they would triumph and be able to render the Ancient device inert once more.

"I would also request either SG units 6 or 9," Teal'c finally said after the pause that followed the phone call.

Landry took a moment to get back up to speed with what the Jaf'fa was talking about, having been lost in thoughts of his own. "6 or 9, huh?" He shuffled throughout the folders til he dug out the respective ones.

Opening SG-6's first he shook his head. "They're on P3X-797, checking in on Councillor Tuplo and the rest of the people in the Land of Light. They aren't due back till Sunday."

"And SG-9?"

Landry swapped the folders and opened SG-9's. "Due to be one of two on-call teams for the Christmas holiday period. That starts next week, so they are available."

"Remind me of the team make up."

"SG-9 is led by Colonel Hill. Marjorie is an experienced SG officer and has been with the SGC since signing up in 1999."

Teal'c nodded for Landry to continue.

"Then there is Major Timothey Hannah, a veteran of the Gulf War where he distinguished himself whilst under fire. Lieutenant Charles Jones is something of a new recruit for the SGC. He transferred here from his team in Iraq only six months ago, and finally SG-9 has Doctor David Webber. He's an expert in linguistics and has passed only the bare minimum courses required for civilians to participate in off world SG teams."

Here Teal'c had to suppress a grin. When the SGC had launched in 1997, DanielJackson had practically been the _only_ civilian travelling off world in any capacity. Everyone else had been a part of the Air Force or the Marines. When the decision had been taken to begin including civilians in the make up of SG teams some time later, it had been decided that they needed to be able to pass a number of basic courses such as weaponry, and survival techniques, and be able to memorize a number of addresses for 'safe' worlds should they lose their IDC.

These courses had been made mandatory for _all_ civilian personnel at the SGC, which had included DanielJackson, despite the amount of time he'd already clocked up off world that didn't even count the year of living on Abydos. As a result DanielJackson had come back from the training courses complaining to SG-1 about how basic they were, and did the SGC really expect that what was being taught to civilians to help them survive should a Goa'uld take them prisoner. O'Neill had sat back and laughed as the younger man had ranted, knowing that the archaeologist was essentially repeating everything that the then Colonel had said about DanielJackson himself and his lack of military survival skills.

"Then, perhaps, it is advisable to leave DoctorWebber behind for this particular mission, GeneralLandry."

"Indeed," agreed Hank. He drew out the folders for Hill, Hannah, and Jones, and threw them on top of Sanderson's before putting the SG-9 and SG-6 folders back into the other pile. "Do you think you need any more?"

Teal'c shook his head. "A team of five is sufficient."

"Well then, Teal'c, I'll leave it up to you to let your team know what they'll be doing in the next thirty-six hours. Your team will have a go as soon as one of the monitoring beacons kicks off."

"Thank you, GeneralLandry," said the Jaf'fa bowing deeply.

Hank awkwardly responded with a sort of half bow of his own and then watched as Teal'c strode from his office.

Thannen

December 10th, 2004

1126 hrs

A dark shadow hovered over Jac, filling her vision and causing her to draw back slightly. It was all she could do as she felt weak and disorientated from Ba'al's sadistic torture sessions. The Goa'uld hadn't used the sarcophagus at all since that dramatic confrontation where she'd caught him trying to break her, in preparation for making her a host for one of those damned snakes. The result of withholding the sarcophagus meant that Jac had numerous wounds to her body that hadn't healed and left her in no fit state to make any sort of escape attempt, which was a priority now since Ba'al had seemingly lost interest in keeping her whole to use as a host. He only needed her functioning enough in order to test any prison devices he recovered in order to see what they did. It wasn't a requirement for her to be whole for that.

The other result of the withheld sarcophagus was Jac's addiction to the device, which had come roaring back with a vengeance after she had dried out the first time as Jack some two years earlier. She'd passed beyond the sweats stage and into vomiting and soiling herself as her body was ravaged with need. The Jaf'fa didn't bother to clean her cell and only hosed her down with cold water before each torture session so that her vile smell didn't bother their god. She'd lost her grip on reality a couple of days ago, which had led to her no longer eating the little in the way of sustenance that the Jaf'fa left for her once a day.

Her entire world was now lost in her withdrawal symptoms. Day and night, up and down didn't matter anymore. There was only Ba'al's use of her body, and its ATA gene in order to test various objects he had found, and the monster that was her addiction to the sarcophagus. Thus, Jac wasn't very aware of the figure standing over in her cell, looking down with dark brown eyes filled with concern at her broken body and wondering if her spirit was in the same state. Finally, it seemed to come to a decision and reached down to pick her up, throwing her extremely, and dangerously, light body over one shoulder. With a snort of disgust at the wretched smell, it then carried her from her cell.

SGC

1134 hrs

Teal'c was waiting impatiently at the bottom of the ramp that led to the stargate, watching as the giant ring spun at the start of the dialling sequence. Half an hour ago both of the monitoring devices, one on P2X-988 and one on PZ4-447, had activated and dialled the SGC to indicate that a Goa'uld ha'tak sat in orbit. That had presented the Jaf'fa with a problem, as DanielJackson's rescue plan had counted on Ba'al travelling to one of these two planets. The second ha'tak meant he had either sent another ship to the second planet, or a completely different Goa'uld had arrived at one of them. The only way to tell would be to visit the planets in question.

The team that Teal'c had put together however could not be in two places at once and a choice had to be made as to which planet to visit to investigate, hoping that the one chosen would be the one visited by the ha'tak that held O'Neill prisoner. Because of the dilemma, Teal'c had consulted the archaeologist, in the gap between blackouts, as to which set of Ancient ruins Ba'al was most likely to visit first. The younger man had been forced to make a choice and had, after some deliberating, chosen one of the two planets. That address had just been dialled and the Jaf'fa's team was now assembling in the gate room to begin what they hoped was a successful rescue mission.

There was a sucking roar as the wormhole formed and stabilized, Teal'c looked back over his shoulder to the command area visible through the glass window. GeneralLandry was watching him with a concerned look. There was a long period of silence as the MALP trundled up the ramp and into the wormhole to establish that Jaf'fa did not control the gate on the other side. Eventually Harriman made his report to Landry.

"Team, you have a go," said Hank. "Go safely people, and bring Captain O'Neill back if you can."

With that Teal'c turned back to face the gate and strode up the ramp, his team of four following his lead and stepping into the event horizon second after the Jaf'fa had done so.

P2X-988 turned out to be much like Abydos, great dunes of sand stretching off in every direction from the gate. The lack of foliage provided the twin problems of possible heat stroke and the lack of cover should Teal'c's team end up in a firefight during the rescue attempt. The Jaf'fa took point and signalled for Colonel Hill to take the team's six, the other three unclipping their weapons and spreading out into a line in the middle.

"LieutenantSanderson?"

"Sir! According to the MALP telemetry, the Goa'uld ha'tak is in orbit. An al'kesh is making touch down some five clicks south-east of the gate."

"Then the ship has travelled to the Ancient ruins discovered here by SG-14," surmised the former First Prime. This did bode well for being Ba'al's ha'tak.

The team set out in the direction indicated.

Thannen

1158 hrs

Jac had lost consciousness in her cell as she'd been picked up, and had expected to wake and find herself trapped by gravity against the metal mesh that had become the place of her crucifixion. Instead, she had to tilt her head to the side to escape the almost blinding sunlight that was now falling upon her body. With a pained moan, she pulled herself up into a sitting position against a large stone and squinted at both herself and her surroundings.

She was a shocking sight. Her uniform was essentially not there any longer, leaving her with her tattered and broken bra as her only undergarment and the only cover for her top half. Her underwear had been ruined during her cold turkey withdrawal from the sarcophagus and her modesty was protected only by her pants which now resembled something akin to hole-riddled hot pants rather than the whole, long legged trousers they had originally been. What she did wear seemed clean enough when compared to how she had been inside her cell, covered in her own excrement and sweat.

What she noticed next was that the injuries that Ba'al had inflicted, over what Jac thought had to have been at least a week of torture, were all gone and she suddenly realized with horror why she wasn't suffering from the pangs of withdrawal any more. She'd been dunked back in the damned device once more; something that had healed her body but had potentially set back her recovery once more. She was also extremely thin, a result of her failure to eat the last few days and the fact that the sarcophagus used the stored energy in the body's fatty tissues to help repair any injuries.

Her ribs were noticeable, Jac almost looking like a starving child from one of those aid appeals she'd seen on television, and her thick, brown hair was brittle to touch and matted with all manner of fluids from blood to urine. She was extremely pale, having not seen the sun for possibly two weeks and Jac realized that she'd lost all the muscle tone, that she spent her time with Sara building up in anticipation of rejoining the SGC, thanks to that time spent either hanging in the mesh or lying on the floor of her cell in agony. Telling herself to stop brooding on her appearance, something she hoped could be fixed with enough time and good food, Jac then turned to take in her situation.

The boulder she back lay against was one of several that looked like it belonged to some sort of landslide where either a hill or a mountain had crumbled away. She was unable to look behind herself to find out. These large rocks gave way to a vast plain that was covered by tussock grasses and a range of huge mountains could be made out in the distance, covered by low cloud. There was only one other person with her, which immediately dispelled the idea that this day trip to the wilds of nowhere was some sort of plan of Ba'al's. L'masee stood, clutching his staff weapon, gazing out at the plain for signs that he'd been followed.

"L'masee?" Jac croaked.

"O'Neill," responded the Jaf'fa as he turned and dropped into a crouch before her prone body.

"Where are we?"

"Thannen, O'Neill. Ba'al comes here in search of something."

"Yeah, yeah. Know all about that." L'masee considered Jac's knowledge of Ba'al's plans as simply another facet of her godlike nature. "How far are we from this planet's stargate?"

"It is on the other side of this range of hills."

"That sounds promising," mused Jac as she tried to stand, using the boulder at her back as a crutch.

L'masee moved to try to stop her, but Jac stubbornly told the Jaf'fa to back off in Goa'uld and continued to climb into a standing position. She was huffing with exertion when she'd achieved her goal, L'masee standing a couple of feet back with his head down cast. This posture only served to make Jac feel like she'd kicked a puppy or something and she had to resist the urge to draw the young Jaf'fa close to herself and mother him. Jac frowned at her thought processes and mused on the effect her female hormones were having on her and the way she thought about things. There was nothing wrong with a thump on the back to cheer up a male friend. Hugs could wait.

"So," she tried to say brightly, "It's up and over then, is it?"

The young Jaf'fa raised his head, but not enough to make eye contact with Jac, "No, my lady, Ba'al's Jaf'fa currently hold the area around the gate."

Jac looked at L'masee. "Well, I can't see your removal of me from the ha'tak staying unnoticed for very much longer. Once they do notice that gate will become impossible to go near."

Still bowed, and using his staff weapon to support himself, L'masee asked, "Then what do you suggest, my lady?"

Feeling a little cranky, which Jac knew was the 'hit' from the sarcophagus beginning to wear off, the Air Force officer almost yelled at the poor Jaf'fa to cut it with the 'my lady' routine. Nevertheless, she managed to remind herself that she was not in any fit state to be trying to take on Ba'al's Jaf'fa alone and alienating her only ally was not a smart move. Jac sighed, feeling weariness in her bones. She may have had the body of a twenty-four year old woman, but in many ways, she still felt like she was over fifty. This duality to her new life was going to drive her insane if she didn't get some space to herself to sort herself out.

"We'll just have to go in, guns blazing."

L'masee straightened up, eyes fixed firmly forward, now that he was a man with a mission. He strode forcefully over to Jac and threw her up onto his left shoulder and brandished his now active staff weapon in his right hand. Jac protested about being manhandled by what was essentially her Jaf'fa retainer and tried to beat the man on his back, which was the only part of him she could reach with her fists. However, her experience at the hands of Ba'al had left her weakened and L'masee was able to shrug off her efforts as if she was some annoying insect.

L'masee gave a huff of preparation and began working his way up the landslide in the direction of the crest of the hill.

P2X-988

1227 hrs

Teal'c and his makeshift SG team surveyed the ruins from the ridge of the basin. Here the winds that swept the sand across the desert had hollowed out a valley, within which sat the Ancient ruins, instead of building massive dunes as it did elsewhere. The side effect of this however, was the funnelling effect that the basin-like valley had on the winds and it was obvious, even from this distance here on the ridge, that the winds at ground level among the ruins were considerably strong. Sand was in the air and constantly on the move at incredible speeds, something that could be felt from where the SG team waited. The Tau'ri members of the party had all already moved to wearing their goggles in order to protect their eyes from the fine sand particles.

Hovering some distance above the ruins was an al'kesh and using his set of binoculars, Teal'c was able to make out the tiny figures of several Jaf'fa milling about the ruins.

"What do you think they are doing?" Hill managed to ask without getting her mouth full of sand.

"The Jaf'fa themselves appear to be uncertain of what they are doing," explained Teal'c as he watched them moved about. "Perhaps they are searching for the Ancient technology that DanielJackson believes that Ba'al is here to find."

With much fidgeting Hill managed to pull her own pair of binoculars out and joined Teal'c in watching the team of Jaf'fa. "I count five... no, wait, six."

"I too count six, ColonelHill." The former First Prime put down his binoculars and turned to look at Hill. "You are suggesting that we attack."

"Well, we need to get onboard the ha'tak that must be in orbit somewhere and our best bet for that is capturing the al'kesh."

"You intend to fly it to the ha'tak as a Trojan equine," summarized the Jaf'fa.

Hill merely batted her eyes at Teal'c comment. "Unless you can come up with a better plan, Teal'c. This is your mission, so I'm going to lead these men to try and take the al'kesh if you don't disagree."

"Your understanding is appreciated ColonelHill. As of now I do not have another plan for the recovery of O'Neill." Teal'c put his binoculars away and Hill did the same.

The pair moved away from the ridge to where the rest of the team had been waiting only a few metres back. The Jaf'fa explained the plan to capture the al'kesh and board the ha'tak. As a group, they circled the ridge of the basin till they came to a point that both Teal'c and Hill agreed would make for the best insertion into the valley. They would enter with some cover only a short distance from the ruins, and more importantly have the wind at their backs. The sand that would be kicked up would hopefully be enough to obscure their approach from the Jaf'fa in the ruins until they were upon them.

With a 'go' signal from Teal'c, the SG team began creeping into the valley basin, wind roaring at their backs and threatening to blow them off their feet. They had been prepared for the wind to be stronger down here, but it was truly something to be reckoned with. Lt. Sanderson had to wonder just how the Jaf'fa were able to deal with it for so long given the fact he wanted to give up now and spend the next year in the shower trying to get sand out of God-knows-where.

Not wanting to waste time and energy, the SG team moved in as swiftly as they could given the howling wind, and began taking out the Jaf'fa one by one. Sanderson noted that the aftermath was akin to those time-lapse films of flowers blooming he'd seen at school when he was younger. In this case, however he was marvelling at how, in just scant seconds, the wind blown sand built up around the fallen bodies and buried the dead Jaf'fa, leaving the ruins as if they'd never been there. Sanderson looked over to Teal'c, who managed to snag the ring control device from the head of the Jaf'fa guard and was indicating that they should all stand closer together.

Having joined in, Sanderson and the others, along with a respectable amount of sand, found themselves onboard the al'kesh that was deserted to Teal'c surprise. He frowned at this revelation, as it was very unlike for a Jaf'fa team to leave such a ship unattended. While the rest of team stood around, shaking sand from their clothing, Teal'c took the ship out of the hover above the ruins and pointed it in the direction of the ha'tak that was indicated on the al'kesh scanners. Now all they needed to do was successfully board the ha'tak without being noticed.

The SG team had sat in silence, Lt. Jones taking the opportunity to eat and drink a little while the other just sipped enough water to get rid of the sand they could feel in their throats. Through the front viewing window of the al'kesh the orbiting ha'tak grew large, eventually to the point where it filled the entire window and blotted out the starscape that surrounded both ships.

There was a sudden barking voice from the intercom. "Kel shak!"

Hill slipped into the seat next to Teal'c and threw him a questioning glance.

"They wish to know what we are doing." Teal'c then signalled for silence and opened communications with the ha'tak, explaining that they had been able to find what their master had been looking for and were thus returning.

There was a long lull, the al'kesh idly moving slowly closer to the ha'tak. Teal'c frowned. Unlike the lack of someone guarding the al'kesh on P2X-988 that he could put down to a shortage of hands for searching the ruins, this silence from the ha'tak was unsettling. With a sudden awkward wrenching, Teal'c angled the ship away from the ha'tak and pushed it to create as much distance between the two as fast as it could.

"Teal'c?"

The Jaf'fa merely nodded to one of the displays and concentrated on flying the ship back toward P2X-988. Hill looked to where Teal'c had indicated and noted that the ha'tak had broken orbit and was now trying to close the gap between them. Something flashed on the display and a split second later the al'kesh shuddered.

"We're under fire?"

Teal'c grunted and tried to swing the ship into a steeper dive towards the planet in the hopes that the ha'tak would be unable to bring its weapons to bear again. Hill looked back to the rest of the team who were standing in the doorway to the ring area, each holding onto something to keep themselves steady.

"Find something to brace yourselves against, people. This could get awfully bumpy really quickly."

The other three did as instructed and wedged themselves into spots about the ring room in order to ride out the turbulence.

"All this for that idiot child, O'Neill," muttered Lt. Jones as he maintained his death grip on the wall.

Sanderson shot his fellow officer a murderous glance. "Yeah, well that 'idiot child' nearly died making sure you got off P2X-117 in one piece."

"But, Colonel Munro —"

"Munro has a bug up his butt the size of Montana," interrupted Sanderson, leaving Major Hannah to watch the pair of them argue. "He's only complaining about O'Neill 'cause she's a part of SG-1. If he can make her look bad he can have it reflect badly on Lt. Colonel Carter."

"Why would he want to do that?" Jones managed to ask after a particularly big jolt ran through the ship.

"Simply because he wants her position as Second-in-Command at the SGC," answered Major Hannah.

Jones looked long and hard at the Major after this pronouncement. Jones had only been at the SGC for a short time and as a result tended to slightly idolize some of the senior or veteran staff there. He'd taken Munro and Killian's attitude to heart for the duration of their mission to P2X-117, just as he'd followed the lead of Hill and Hannah during SG-9's regular off world missions. Here he was, faced with the dilemma of accepting either Munro's or Sandersons and Hannah's point of view over the missing Captain O'Neill's behaviour on P2X-117.

"So, Colonel Munro isn't after her disregarding orders?"

Sanderson shook his head. "Killian ditched both of us when I took a dive into the turf on P2X-117. If she hadn't come back for me, I'd be dead. I don't even know if Munro even cares if Killian is dead or not. He just seems to be milking the situation for what he can get out of it."

Hill, meanwhile, had been watching the displays with growing concern. While the ha'tak lacked the manoeuvrability of the al'kesh, it had them on speed and she'd noted something because of that. While Teal'c had been able to twist the ship this way and that to dodge the occasional fire from the ha'tak, the Goa'uld mothership had been able to use its greater speed to place itself between them and P2X-988 and herd them further and further away from the planet.

More guttural Goa'uld spilled from the speakers of the communications system.

"I take it that was give up and die?" asked Hill as she held on tightly to her seat.

Teal'c shook his head and frowned, letting Hill know that the Jaf'fa too could see that they were being separated from the planet and the gate that led home. "They are demanding to know who are we to defy the will of the goddess Bastet."

"Bastet? But we were here for Ba'al."

"Indeed," acknowledged Teal'c grimly. "It appears that it was PZ4-447 that we should have explored in our attempt to rescue O'Neill."

The Jaf'fa let the al'kesh drift lazily to the right before turning hard to the left in an attempt to slip by the side of the ha'tak. The manoeuvre failed and the al'kesh was grazed by the blast, throwing everyone but Teal'c to the floor of the ship and ending the conversation in the ring room. Pulling herself back into her seat, Hill clutched the console in front of her for support and turned to Teal'c.

"I've an idea. Instead of trying to give this Bastet the slip and getting to the gate on P2X-988, can you get this thing to PZ4-447? There may still be a chance to rescue Captain O'Neill."

Teal'c merely raised his eyebrow and tapped the hyperspace co-ordinates for the planet in question into the ship's computer. Hill took the raised eyebrow as a good sign and even managed to remember to brace herself when the al'kesh tripped into hyperspace. The multiple crashing sounds and cursing from the ring room indicated that the rest of the team had been caught unawares.

SGC

1236 hrs

Sam threw her pen across the room, mimicking Daniel's frustration of some time ago, startling the archaeologist who had been working at the other end of the table in Carter's lab. They'd been at the device almost non-stop if you didn't count the blackouts the either one or the other, or both, succumbed to. Since Dr. Brightman had quarantined the lab, 'purely as a precaution', the pair hadn't been able to go anywhere else on the base other than the toilets. All their food was brought to them and Sam was beginning to feel like the walls were closing in on her.

"Sam?"

"This is just _really_ starting to annoy me, Daniel. Since Martouf paid me a visit and shot me, I've had my mother drown me in a dry room, Major Kawalsky electrocute me, Jonas use a Goa'uld hand device, and Joseph club me to death with a table leg. Not to mention all the others who've popped out so far. I think I'm going to go insane, Daniel."

All Daniel could manage was, "Joseph?"

Sam gave him a look that said 'that is all you paid attention to during my little speech?' and shrugged her shoulder. "Earth's diplomat to the Aschen, Daniel."

"Oh." Daniel twiddled his pen in awkwardness. Despite Sam silent treatment after he'd gotten too involved in _her_ love life, he'd not really managed to curb his interest in the affairs of others. Witness his grilling of Jack's clone over the boy's girlfriend at High School.

"That's beside the point," said Sam picking up where she'd left off. "Why the hell is this blasted machine doing this to us? What purpose would there be experiencing being killed over and over again by people you know?"

"Maybe some of the Ancients were perverts and got off on that sort of thing," Daniel suggested jokingly, only to be met with a flat stare from Carter.

"Right," said Daniel and he cleared his throat. Today was obviously a foot-in-mouth day for him, although he could blame that on the huge distraction that was being killed repeatedly.

"Have you got any further with the translation?" asked Sam, wanting to change tack.

"Translation?" Daniel riffled through his collection of papers. "Oh, right, translation. Well," began Daniel playing with his pen before accidentally dropping it on the floor, "ah... there is a note that describes it as some form of hyper-realistic virtual reality. But we already know that."

Daniel picked up his pen and sorted to another piece of paper. "Now, this set of markings here I _think_ make reference to 'injection' of some kind."

"In what context?"

"I'm only guessing here, but the way this thing works is probably much like Urgo did."

Sam pondered that for a moment. "So you're saying that when we turned the device on it somehow 'injected' us with some sort of microscopic receiver which is what the cause of these hallucinations is."

The younger man shrugged. "That's what I'm guessing so far. I'm pretty close to cracking this sheet," said Daniel holding up a piece of paper with two rows of transcribed markings from the surface of the device written upon it.

"I hope for our sake that it happens to be the instructions on how to turn this off."

"I think it will give us the answers we need. Either than or turn out to be a recipe for chicken soup."

Sam sighed and lowered her forehead to the cool top of the desk, hands holding onto the edge of the table for support. Daniel just winced and mentally chalked up three from three in the stupid comments stake. He really needed time out from being killed in order to get his mouth under control or there was a good possibility that Sam might just put him out of his misery and kill him herself.

At this point Daniel's grandfather Nicholas Ballard paid the younger man a visit, carrying a crystal skull with him. The apparition seemed to smile as it dashed the skull to the floor where it exploded into a cloud of fine dust. Despite the knowledge that it wasn't real, and experience of dying several times already, Daniel felt his lungs struggling for air as if the dust was clogging them. He managed to gasp "Lights out" before he slumped forward on his stool.

Sam looked up from where she was leaning on the lab table to see the unconscious archaeologist and she just sighed once more. This experience was beginning to drag really quickly.

Thannen

1249 hrs

L'masee had been correct, mused Jac. From the pair's vantage point, it was quite obvious that the gate area was swarming with Ba'al's Jaf'fa. She sighed and looked down at the small container in her hands. She was sitting, with her back against the trunk of a tree, slowly sipping on the little water that her new Jaf'fa pal had given her. This was okay with her given that her stomach wasn't up to dealing with anything more than that right now. The Jaf'fa himself was in a crouch, a few feet from her, with his eyes fixed on the activity below.

From what Ba'al had gone on and on about when he'd been 'playing' with her, the snake was expecting to find more sadistic toys here that he'd been planning on using on her. Jac did have to wonder at the Goa'uld's sudden interest in the technology of the Ancients, something that previously only Anubis had been interested in. The woman had to pause there in her thinking. Anubis. Although they'd effectively banished the half-ascended Goa'uld to an ice planet when he'd possessed the body of the Russian Colonel, Vaselov that unfortunately didn't provide a concrete end to the menace that was Anubis.

"L'masee?"

"O'Neill."

Jac was having a hard time trying to guess what the young Jaf'fa was thinking. He seemed to vacillate between calling her by her name, as Teal'c did or referring to her as 'my lady' as if she were a Goa'uld posing as a god.

"L'masee, do you know what Anubis' orders were that he gave to Ba'al?" Jac was taking a wild stab in the dark here based on her attempt to understand Ba'al's pursuit of Ancient technology.

The Jaf'fa gave her a hard stare, and Jac realized that she had touched a raw nerve there. She could wonder what it was later.

"Well?"

"Lord Anubis claims to have been cast down. Although I have not seen him, others say that he is weak and has Lord Ba'al bring him slaves, all of which turn up dead within a matter of days."

"Ah," mused Jac knowingly. "So ol' booby is still at that whole vampire-zombie-possession thing then. He must have been through a large number of slaves as I don't recall any body that he possessed lasting for very long."

"Many have died," nodded L'masee as he came to understand what O'Neill was saying. Lord Anubis was no lord at all; he was merely some foul parasite that crept from host to host, discarding them when they were no longer of use. Which for L'masee led to him questioning why Lord Ba'al would serve such a creature if he were a god and Anubis a mere leech? "Why would Lord Ba'al serve such manner of creature?"

"Creature?" Jac almost giggled before she managed to stop herself. "A good a word as any for cloak-boy, I suppose. As for Ba'al, he too is nothing more than a parasite."

Jac ground to a halt at that point and mentally kicked herself from crossing a line she'd marked 'verboten' and inviolate till she way safely tucked away at the SGC. She had avoided discussing Ba'al's true nature, and that of all the Goa'uld, because she simply had no idea how L'masee would react to such knowledge. With Teal'c it had been a different matter, the former First Prime already having knowledge of exactly what a Goa'uld was. L'masee was merely a rank and file Jaf'fa, one of a large number Jac had killed over the last seven or so years, and like them was unaware of what made their gods tick.

The Jaf'fa meanwhile was trying to process the disturbing revelation that threatened to tilt his world. Lord Ba'al was a parasite also?

"Lord Ba'al does not require new bodies to live in every few days," he challenged Jac.

"No, true. However, he's not quite the same kind of parasite. Ol' dark-and-ugly used to be like Ba'al, but he did something to himself that left him that way. Don't ask me what it was 'cause all I know is that it involves candles and leftovers."

L'masee didn't exactly follow where O'Neill went with the last sentence, but he gamely tried to learn more about what she'd said at the start. "How is Lord Ba'al different?"

"Do you have a snake in your gut?"

That sharp comment from O'Neill caught L'masee short. "'Snake in my gut'?"

Jac jabbed a finger at L'masee's belly and repeated her question. She was beginning to tire, the boost from the sarcophagus she been dropped in, roughly an hour ago, was wearing off. The young Jaf'fa meanwhile had his free hand under his tunic and probing the edges of his prim'tah and the gift from Ba'al within.

"That's a Goa'uld," Jac managed to add before she passed out, sagging against the tree.

December 11th, 2004

0534 hrs

It was dark when Jac stirred again. She opened her eyes to find a face full of leaves and it took several moments for her eyesight to adjust enough to the darkness for her to realize that she was currently up a tree. While her limbs were free to move, she was held to the trunk of the tree by a thick and sturdy rope that had obviously prevented her from falling out of the tree in her unconscious state. Jac risked a look down and estimated that she was at least a floor up in terms of distance from the ground. Turning her head the other way revealed L'masee who once again was protecting her by looking out other Jaf'fa.

The Jaf'fa caught her movement and carefully moved from his branch, were he'd been perched, to where Jac was tied to the tree.

"O'Neill."

Jac nodded in thanks as L'masee began to untie her.

"I had little choice," explained L'masee somewhat apologetically. "Ba'al is aware that I have removed you from the ha'tak and we are now both hunted. I tied you to the tree to prevent your discovery."

"What time is it?" she whispered.

L'masee pointed to the sky in the west where the black was marginally tinted grey. "Dawn approaches." Not quite the answer Jac was looking for, but good enough.

"Okay, okay. So has anything about our situation changed since our last little conversation?"

"I have rejected Ba'al completely, O'Neill."

"Hmm... yeah, I kind'a noticed what with you dropping that 'lord' stuff. You okay with that?" Jac was still concerned at how the Jaf'fa was reacting to her dismantling of his worldview. She had some idea how that felt having had her own tilted by a sudden gender change.

"It is a strange feeling to know that I no longer serve Ba'al, but then I have you my lady."

Jac squirmed on her branch at being spoken to like that. In the distance, where it had been grey it was now a yellowy-pink and Jac found she could make out the Jaf'fa's face better. He was staring at her in concern.

"My manner of speaking to you unsettles you, O'Neill?"

How was she supposed to explain what she was thinking without offending him and being left alone, halfway up a tree, to fend for herself?

Nodding slowly, Jac added, "I don't feel comfortable with being treated as Ba'al and the other Goa'uld commanded."

"Ah," exclaimed L'masee as if this statement for her explained everything. He then through a series of manoeuvres dropped silently to the floor of the forest and began surveying the immediate area.

Jac meanwhile had started panicking at the Jaf'fa's actions, believing that she'd finally managed to offend him. With still tired limbs, she struggled to get into a position that allowed her to begin climbing down the tree. Her arms were shaking with exhaustion already and she suddenly lost her grip on the tree, falling backwards into space.

He fall was abruptly halted by the arms of a Jaf'fa and Jac furiously tried to wriggle free, not about to be dragged back to Ba'al and his idea of 'fun'.

"Calm yourself, O'Neill," hissed the Jaf'fa who held her.

"L'masee?"

"It is I." He gently lowered his arms to allow Jac to stand on her own but she found that she had to rest against L'masee's shoulder, unable, as she was to stand completely under her own power.

She brushed a shaky hand across her face and figured she had to look as white as a ghost did now.

"What were you doing, O'Neill?" The Jaf'fa almost seemed angry with her, which, Jac mused, seemed to be progress. If she could gradually get him warmed up to the idea that she wasn't a god then she might just survive this.

"I... I thought you had abandoned me," she said eventually, figuring the truth was the best option.

"Abandon you?" L'masee seemed aghast at the very idea. "I have pledged my service to you," L'masee said, reminding her of how that had first met on P2X-117.

"Right." There was little else Jac felt she could say to that. She brushed her dirty hair from her face and looked up at the bigger man. "Is the situation with the gate any better?"

The Jaf'fa shook his head as he gazed down at her. She seemed so frail and tiny as she leant against his shoulder, her face drawn and haggard from weeks of torture at Ba'al's hands. Despite her exalted status, she did appear to be scared as her right hand was trembling.

Jac caught L'masee's gaze and followed it to her shaking hand and she knew that it was simply her body demanding another 'hit' from the sarcophagus. This was simply a nightmare for the young woman, and she wasn't completely comfortable with the idea of relying solely on L'masee, no matter what brave face she'd put on SG-1 and the others during the P2X-117 mission.

"I'm fine," muttered Jac and she wrenched herself away from the Jaf'fa, only to fall ass first onto the ground.

L'masee looked down at her with that blank face that Teal'c had so often worn and Jac once again found herself wondering what the Jaf'fa was thinking, because at this point in time there was no way she resembled an self assured god. She was barely dressed, malnourished, weak, and suffering from withdrawal. L'masee had to be regretting his rash decision to put his life at her command.

A large hand dropped into her vision and she accepted it, allowing L'masee to pull her back to her feet.

"Thank you," she managed to say.

"We must keep moving, O'Neill," stated L'masee as if nothing had happened and she hadn't made a complete fool out of herself from the moment he'd climbed from the tree.

Jac nodded and the pair of them began to move away from where they had spent the night. L'masee held his staff weapon in his left hand while he used his right to help steady Jac. The result of this was that their movement was slow, a sedate walking pace, as Jac could manage no more in her state. L'masee led them back toward the ridge that overlooked where the stargate stood, in order for them to learn the current movements of Ba'al's Jaf'fa.

As they moved from one set of cover to another, they heard the sound of a staff weapon being activated.

"Kree shak," shouted a voice from behind them, causing the pair to slowly stop. Surrendering was better than dying right now, thought Jac who still had a new life that she planned to live, but with the way she was right now, surrendering was not better by much.

From the trees, a number of Ba'al's Jaf'fa began to emerge, each of them pointing a staff weapon at L'masee and Jac who was weakly clutching onto him. One of them pointed at L'masee and said, "Kree t'ak."

L'masee looked down at Jac and caught her little nod. He had little choice other than to obey and handed over his staff weapon. As he did so, Jac sighed and closed her eyes, her stomach beginning to feel queasy at the thought of being within Ba'al's control once more.


	9. Fallen Angel

THANKS: A big thank you to Karen Joy who worked hard as my Beta on this chapter.

**NINE: Fallen Angel**

Al'kesh, en route to PZ4-447 (Thannen)

December 11th, 2004

0605 hrs

It hadn't taken long to find out why Teal'c had so easily taken her off-the-cuff suggestion of flying the al'kesh to PZ4-447 to heart, once the ship was safely in hyperspace. The Jaf'fa pointed out to Hill that '447 and the planet they'd originally gated to had been selected from several by Daniel because they were roughly on the same route that Ba'al appeared to be travelling and both had ruins belonging to the Ancients. PZ4-447 was not that great a distance away, speaking in terms of using hyperspace, and P2X-998 was no longer of importance to the mission due to Ba'al not being there. As long as Bastet had no idea where they were going and used her ha'tak to catch them up, they were safe and had the use of an al'kesh in any rescue they put together upon arriving at '447.

With Teal'c quite happy to pilot the craft the required distance, Hill had joined the rest of the team in the back ring room of the al'kesh. Here she found that the others had arranged themselves out after their spill and were once again engaged in debate. The same topic had arisen as before, the subject of the rescue mission: Captain Jacqueline O'Neill. Hill had slipped into a seat and watched the debate, only Major Hannah noticing her arrival. From what she tell of the conversation between the two Lieutenants, O'Neill seemed to have an almost zealous fan in Sanderson, who was trying vigorously to defend his senior officer from Jones' parroted complaints about the Captain's supposed insubordination.

Hill had had Lieutenant Jones in her SG squad long enough to know that the young Lieutenant had yet to gain enough experience in the field to start making decisions and forming opinions of his own. Many a time off-world she had found Jones repeating thoughts or opinions, sometimes almost word for word, that she recognized as belonging to other senior SGC staff. This time Jones seemed to have Munro's bee-in-a-bonnet about O'Neill stuck in his head. Sanderson was trying to argue using examples of the Captain's behaviour he himself had observed and Major Hannah was chipping in every now and then with a comment about Munro's motivations in pursuing his complaint.

It appeared to be working, as Jones was vacillating rather than doggedly sticking to _his_ opinion as he had done previously, if Hannah's eye roll was anything to go by. She gave him a slight smile. Jones was hardly the first rookie that they had broken in and so they both knew the routine.

"Gentlemen," she had said finally. "I think this gossip session has gone on long enough."

That was the end of the matter. Oh, she knew that the pair might simply pick it up once more upon their return to the SGC, but at least for the duration of the mission it was shelved. Teal'c had given her a vague estimation of their arrival time, some point early in the morning, and she had ordered her team to get some rest. She wanted them wide-awake and ready to go the moment they got to PZ4-447. They had turned in, extinguishing the lights, and left Teal'c to pilot them to their destination.

Marjorie Hill had taken some time to fall asleep. The debate between Sanderson and Jones had led her to consider just what she knew of the person they were rescuing. Captain Jacqueline O'Neill, apparent niece of SG-1's first commanding officer. General Landry gave Hill a run down. He emphasized that O'Neill was someone the Pentagon wanted at the SGC, going as far as smoothing her transition to the place, and they would rather not lose after only one field mission.

Marjorie had read the younger woman's file and had some inkling of why that might be. The girl would almost rival Lt. Colonel Carter or Lieutenant Hailey in terms of sheer intellect, if her educational background was correct. However, there had to be something more. If the woman simply had brains, they would not be so willing to assign her to an SG team, let alone SG-1. She was a Captain in the USAF, so she had some background there. Was the Pentagon hoping that by having her under Carter's wing that they would be getting 'newer model' so to speak? After all, Carter couldn't spend the rest of her life on the front line of the SGC. Just like General O'Neill, she would eventually have to step back and take an administrative role.

Wondering the fate of the missing Captain was eventually enough to lull Hill to sleep and she felt quite rested when Teal'c had roughly shaken her shoulder to wake her. At that point, the ship had been three hours out from PZ4-447 and she had wanted that extra time to ready her team and make plans for a rescue. Now she sat in the seat across from the Teal'c, the Jaf'fa seemingly none the worse for wear after piloting the craft through the 'night'.

"Are the preparations complete, ColonelHill?" asked Teal'c as he made a minor adjustment to the controls. They were due to drop out of hyperspace shortly and he hoped that Bastet had not been able to pursue them. This was because he would rather not have to try and pilot the al'kesh through the crossfire to the two hostile ha'taks belonging to Bastet and Ba'al, whose own ha'tak was surely in orbit about PZ4-447 or on the planet itself.

"We're about as ready as we can be, Teal'c."

"Then it is best you warn them of our return to normal space."

"We're there?" queried Hill in surprise.

"Indeed."

Hastily Hill scrambled from her seat and moved to the doorway that led to the ring room area.

"Grab onto something, people. Teal'c informs me that we're there."

As the others did as ordered, Hill returned to her seat and grabbed the edges to keep herself from falling. She nodded to Teal'c who checked the instrument panel one last time before making the necessary adjustments to bring them out of hyperspace.

The bluish whirl of hyperspace gave way to the inky, star dusted blackness of normal space and the orb that was PZ4-447 filled the viewing window. The planet looked a lot like Earth from space, as Hill had seen in numerous photos, with only the different shape to the continents giving away that they were not home.

"Ba'al's ha'tak?"

Teal'c was already working his way through the scan results. "There is a considerable power source on the surface of the planet that is consistent with the output of a Goa'uld ha'tak."

"And Bastet?"

The Jaf'fa shook his head. "There are no signs that she has followed us here."

Hill took one last look at the planet. "Then you have a go, Teal'c. Take us in and put us down as close to the ha'tak as you can get."

Thannen (PZ4-447)

0611 hrs

Captured by Ba'al's loyal Jaf'fa, the fight had gone out of Jac and her exhaustion had returned, leaving her unable to stand under her own power. L'masee acted as her walking stick without complaint, letting her rest up against him as the party began moving back in the direction of the ha'tak. As they walked, Jac was furiously looking for any advantage, something that would allow the pair of them to escape once more. There was no way in hell that she was going back to that nightmarish existence of torture and withdrawal from the sarcophagus. Her stomach churned once more and seconds later, she tore herself away from L'masee. She crashed awkwardly to the ground and began to retch, wrapping her arms around her belly in a pitiful attempt to moderate the pain.

Unfortunately for Jac, all she'd had in the last few days was the little water L'masee had provided her with and as a consequence her stomach was quite empty. Her body heaved as it tried to vomit, Jac spasming several times before she was able to spit a tiny amount of the stomach acid that burned her throat on the way up, and blood onto the ground. The whole display didn't seem to impress the Jaf'fa much, the leader of the group stomping over to her, as she shuddered and sought control of her body once more, and brutally slamming her hard into the ground by hitting her with the butt of his staff weapon.

L'masee winced in sympathy and moved to bend down and help the fallen woman up. At a glance from the Jaf'fa leader, two others of the party moved to stop him, leaving L'masee with little to do other than watch.

"Get up, you piece of filth," barked the leader to the still prone Jac.

With some effort, Jac was able to roll onto her back, but had obviously taken much longer than the leader would have liked as she simply stepped in closer once more and rammed the staff weapon into her already upset stomach. Jac rather folded over the butt of the weapon, more blood and acid passing her lips. As the Jaf'fa leader pulled his weapon away, Jac simply slid back onto the ground in a daze. Disgusted and annoyed that their prisoner refused to co-operate, orders were issued and L'masee was made to sling the woman over one of his shoulders like a limp rag doll.

With a snort, the party began to move once more and as they did so, L'masee took the opportunity to covertly try to gauge Jac's status. She was unresponsive to stimuli and slightly shaking. If her smell was anything to go by then she had soiled herself once again. Unable to do anything for the woman, L'masee focused on what he had learnt from Jac when she had been halfway lucid during their attempted escape from Ba'al.

Jac regarded both Anubis and Ba'al as nothing more than simple parasites, claiming that Ba'al especially was merely like the creature that lived inside his prim'tah. L'masee had struggled with such an idea, going as it did against all he had been told previously about the purpose of such creatures. There was, after all, no doubt that the creatures bestowed good health and long life on those who carried them. But for them to be Goa'uld...

Such was the Jaf'fa's deep train of thought that he was, like the rest of the party, caught slightly off guard by staff weapon fire erupting from the thick vegetation to one side of the simple path they travelled. The blasts struck down two of the team before any were able to return fire. The attack was quickly accompanied by Taurus weapons fire, bullets spraying across the area and helping to take down a third Jaf'fa. Realizing just how vulnerable O'Neill was in such a situation, L'masee dropped to his knees and rolled the prone woman off his shoulders and into a slight depression to the side of the path. With her as far out of the crossfire as possible, L'masee then threw himself over to cover her body.

Above their heads the last few Jaf'fa in the patrol were brutally gunned down by a combination of staff weapon blasts and bullets. As the final figure fell, body slumping heavily to the ground, five figures emerged from the surrounding forest. Teal'c was the first, his head swinging back and forth, as he moved closer, eyes roving constantly for further Jaf'fa. Behind him came Sanderson and Jones, both clutching their P90s tightly, and Hill and Hannah who were bringing up the rear in turn shadowed them.

"Secure?" asked Hill.

"They have been dealt to," replied Teal'c.

On the ground L'masee lay frozen on top of Jac, not quite sure who it was that had attacked the patrol. The first had sounded like a T'auri, perhaps a Goa'uld, but the second was definitely a Jaf'fa of some standing. He could only hope that they believed that he and Jac were dead and passed them by. Unfortunately, Jac wasn't about to play along as she showed signs of regaining consciousness. She moaned and struggled to move, pinned as she was under L'masee's bulk.

L'masee felt someone crouch over the pair and as quick as lightning rolled onto his back, fist coming up to strike. His blow was deftly intercepted by the owner of the voice he had identified as belonging to a Jaf'fa. He found himself looking into the eyes of a Jaf'fa he'd only briefly crossed paths with before. Teal'c himself blinked at finding himself nose to nose with L'masee, although he had the advantage of knowing whom he was going to find on the ground. The attending members of SG-9, Sanderson, and Teal'c had spotted L'masee led at weapon point through the forest and had quickly identified the man's burden as Captain O'Neill.

Teal'c blocking hand turned into an outstretched hand which L'masee took and the younger Jaf'fa was soon righted and standing on his own two feet. The older of the two signalled Hill over and then dropped into a crouch beside the SG officer who was starting to move again having been freed of Lamaze's restrictive weight. Her unfocused eyes fixed on the shape of Teal'c beside her.

"T?" she queried.

The older man pulled her up into his arms. "I have you, O'Neill." With Jac cradled in his arms he instructed L'masee to take his staff weapon as Hill signalled for the team to begin retreating in the direction of their parked al'kesh.

SGC

0714 hrs

Sam cast a quick glance at the prone figure of Daniel who was currently slumped across his notes, a victim of yet another death at the hands of a familiar face. The archaeologist was now surviving on intervals of only fifteen to twenty minutes between violent deaths, a period at which the vivid hallucinations seemed to have stabilized at. Sam was thankful for that small mercy as the idea of being immediately 'killed' every time she woke from a previous killing was not a pleasant one.

The rather vexed SGC officer sighed and threw her pencil down in frustration. Neither Daniel, nor she, were any closer to figuring out how to shut the Ancient device down safely and their periodic blackouts hampered their progress by either dropping them like flies in the middle of tests or ideas, or by leaving them permanently fatigued by the stress brought on by the visions.

She could use a distraction about now and was rewarded by Dr. Brightman poking her head through the door to the lab.

"Can I have a word, Colonel Carter?"

Sam gave the medical officer a wary smile and nodded gratefully at the prospect of something else to think about. She really needed a break from obsessing about the device. Dr. Brightman meanwhile had stepped cautiously into the lab as, although she was reasonably confident that Sam was right and that no one beyond Daniel and Sam herself would be affected, there no one hundred percent guarantee of safety. As she made her way to where Sam sat, she cast a doctor's eye over the out of it figure of Daniel, his head pillowed in his pile of notes.

"Again?" she asked.

Sam nodded woodenly. "About twenty minutes ago. He'll probably wake up soon. This is getting extremely irritating Doctor Brightman."

"I should think so," agreed Brightman. "Please, call me Rachel. With the amount of time I've spent with you and your team recently I feel we could at least be on a first name basis."

It took a moment for Carter to convince herself that she wasn't replacing Janet Fraiser by agreeing, before she nodded her head and asked Brightman just why the doctor had decided to pay a house call on the two affected SG-1 members. Daniel chose that point in the conversation to sit up suddenly at the desk, eyes blinking owlishly as he tried to recall where he was. His hands scrabbled about the tabletop for his glasses which he quickly put on so that he could make who was near him.

"Welcome back to the land of the living," Sam joked.

"I'm glad to be back," replied the younger man, faintly smiling. He flexed his arms and shoulders, as if to chase away some sort of phantom rigor mortis that lingered after his most recent violent 'death'.

"Morning, Doctor Brightman," said Daniel, acknowledging the woman standing next to him. "What brings you here?"

"I came to check on your progress," she explained, settling Sam's curiosity at the same time as Daniels.

Daniel groaned as if in pain.

"That poor?" queried Rachel.

"We're not making much head way," admitted Sam.

"Well, I may have an easy solution to the problem."

The bespectacled archaeologist looked like he was about to leap out of his seat and seize Dr. Brightman by the arms and shake the information out of her, so great was the look of relief on his face. Sam was a little better at composing herself and her reaction.

"What solution, Rachel?"

Daniel quirked an eyebrow at Sam's use of Brightman's first name, which Sam ignored in favour of focusing her attention on the medical officer.

"I wondered if someone who possessed the ATA gene might have some luck with deactivating the device."

"We'd thought of that," said Daniel. "Problem is that there is no one currently at the SGC with the gene. We lost our supply, for want of a better word, of staff with the gene when they were all packed off to Atlantis. We're apparently trying to recruit more, but we may not have anyone till midyear."

"Are you suggesting gene therapy for someone?" asked Sam. Such a procedure had been mooted and developed, but as of yet no human tests had been carried out.

"No, I'm not suggesting such a thing. There is, however, a member of the SGC with the gene and potentially a good chance of reversing the effect of the device."

"Really?" Daniel looked for all the world like a little child told they could have all the ice cream they could ever want. "You've tracked down Jack and asked him to come in?"

Sam too looked excited at the prospect, not just of getting a good night of sleep, but also of meeting Jack again.

Brightman shook her head. "I'm afraid it is not General O'Neill."

"Then who?" asked Sam, somewhat downcast.

"Captain O'Neill tested positive for the ATA gene," explained Brightman.

"Captain O'Neill?" Sam was surprised to find that she hadn't really considered such a possibility.

Rachel was nodding her head. "It came up when we did her medical tests for entry to the SGC." Or it would have done had Jack not already been known to possess the gene.

"But Jac is still missing off world," protested Daniel.

"She is, but do you not believe that Teal'c will do all her can to bring her back?"

Sam had to accept the doctor's logic. "Is there any word from the mission yet?"

Brightman sighed and shook her head. "Nothing yet. Landry redialled P2X-988 about forty-five minutes ago and was unable to raise SG-9, Sanderson, or Teal'c."

Daniel's expression turned grim.

"Can we see her if they bring her back?" asked Sam.

"See her?"

Sam nodded. "As in, leave this room and visit the infirmary?" Both Daniel and she were still under a form of quarantine.

Rachel gave a small smile. "Another reason I came to check on you two was to let you know that Landry has given provisional clearance for you two to be able to move about the base once more. This is mainly down to the fact that no one else has experienced what you two have. However, should someone else go down then you'll both be stuck back in here as soon as humanly possible."

Daniel and Sam shared a relieved look at the prospect of some freedom of movement. They both wanted to be there when Teal'c returned.

Thane (PZ4-447)

0736 hrs

The ambushing of the Jaf'fa patrol escorting L'masee and Jac resulted in the rescue team soon finding themselves hunted by other patrols once the alarm had been raised. Thankfully, the pursuing Jaf'fa patrols seemed to be concentrating on keeping Teal'c's team away from the stargate, which Hannah initially took as a good sign, one that meant that they could easily escape PZ4-447 with their captured al'kesh. Teal'c had pointed out however, that since they'd not come to the planet via the gate that Ba'al would have his minions out searching for some kind of spacecraft. Yes, the patrols were herding them away from the gate, but they were doing it in such a pattern as to allow them to hunt for the hidden al'kesh at the same time.

The team fought their way through one blockade created by the Jaf'fa, and barely survived a surprise encounter with another. The shock of the sudden meeting was all that saved the team from being captured so soon after rescuing Jac and L'masee. Like the run through the blockade, it boiled down into a simple firefight. Although the team won, with no casualties on their part, it had taken longer than Teal'c had liked simple because he himself had been hampered by having Jac thrown over one of his shoulders.

The battle had cut deeply into the lead that the team had on their pursuers and them soon could hear the crash of other Jaf'fa patrols hurrying through the bush as they chased them down. Therefore, it was with great relief that they made it to where Teal'c had put the al'kesh down and began scrambling onboard. Teal'c turned the still unresponsive O'Neill over to the care of Hill as he took his place in the pilot's chair in order to set the craft in motion.

Two Jaf'fa patrols burst into the small clearing as the ship began to rise from the ground, attempting to fire their staff weapons through the dust and debris kicked up by the departing craft. One of the patrol leaders called back to the lead team still based at the stargate to inform him of the current situation.

Teal'c found out how quickly that information had been communicated, as the al'kesh emerged from the planet's orbit to find Ba'al's ha'tak turning about in an attempt to intercept the fleeing ship. Teal'c barked an order back to the rest of the team in the back room to brace themselves in case they came under fire. While the team did as ordered, Hill, along with Sanderson, busied themselves with securing Jac onto her makeshift bed and making sure that said bed would not go flying about the room in case of an accident.

The former First Prime had the al'kesh in a steep ascent in the hopes of being able to manoeuvre the smaller craft across the blind spot that he knew existed within the spread of the hate's weapons. In order to do this though he had to bring the al'kesh closer to the ha'tak and thus make an easier target of it for the Jaf'fa weapons controller. As the al'kesh fell into the range of the ha'tak's weapons Teal'c forced the ship to go faster, the bulk of the ha'tak beginning to fill the forward windows of the control cabin.

The ha'tak opened fire and Teal'c swung the al'kesh to avoid them as it dived closer to the blind spot near the bridge of the larger craft. The back of his mind was trying to point out to the rest of his brain that was currently dedicated solely to the piloting of the ship out of danger, that the power and targeting of the blasts from the ha'tak seemed designed to cripple not destroy the ship, which suggested that Ba'al wanted them and the ship intact.

With the engines of the ship screaming at being pushed to the limit and the physical being of the craft beginning to rattle in protest at the forces at work upon it, Teal'c punched the ship through he blind spot he'd been aiming for. As the al'kesh ran close to falling back into the range of the weapons fire, he engaged the hyperdrive. There was the rattle and crash of various small and unsecured objects as they fell, but that was of no concern to the Jaf'fa. He had recovered the missing Captain, knew that she wasn't well and that time might simply run out for the human female if he didn't get her back to the SGC as soon as physically possible.

With that in mind, he began rooting through the onboard database in order to locate a planet with a stargate that the team could use to get back to the SGC. According to the database the nearest planet with a gate that wasn't to his knowledge Goa'uld controlled was some two hours away. He plugged in the co-ordinates of the planet in question before engaging the autopilot and heading into the back room to check on the rest of the team and the status of those they'd rescued. L'masee was in good condition and his symbiote was giving him no problems, Jac on the other hand was extremely pale and breathing shallowly.

The woman had not regained consciousness since her rescue and Hill, with her limited field first aid training, did what she could to help, but expressed her worry that Jac might now survive the return journey.

While the team sat and watched Hill as she kept an eye on Jac, Sanderson sidled up to the Jaf'fa leader of the rescue.

"Can I help you LieutenantSanderson?"

"Ah, yeah," mumbled the junior officer. "I was sort of wondering why you included me in this rescue mission."

Sanderson met and tried to hold Teal'c gaze, but those dark brown eyes seemed to see right into him, which caused Sanderson to avert his eyes after only a few seconds.

"I believed it would be to the benefit of the team to have someone with whom CaptainO'Neill had served, in case she was confused and unable to tell friend from foe."

"A friendly face who she would believe and trust?"

"Indeed. Without such a face on the team, I considered the possibility that bringing her back to the SGC might be more difficult. In the end, she seemed to recognize and trust me enough to allow us to take her with us."

"I can sort of see the logic," agreed Sanderson, well aware thanks to countless briefings of the different ways that SG teams had had either their senses or memories tricked whilst off world, "but fail to see how I could be considered a friendly face since I've only been on one mission with her."

Teal'c observed that the Lieutenant was faintly blushing thanks to the conversation and paused to ponder the cause. Although it was somewhat foreign to him thanks to his Jaf'fa upbringing, Teal'c had come to understand that some of the Tau'ri did not know how to handle praise. He had countless memories of ColonelCarter blushing just as Sanderson was doing whenever GeneralO'Neill had paid her a compliment for her abilities with either science or the Air Force. Then Teal'c had to note that ColonelCarter had at some point been nursing what DanielJackson labelled as a 'crush' on General O'Neill. Teal'c looked down at the still faintly blushing Sanderson and gave up a little prayer of hope that said blush wasn't a sign that Sanderson had a crush on him.

SGC

1032 hrs

"Confirmation, Sir. It's SG-9's IDC," announced Harriman.

Landry gave the nod and Harriman had the iris retracted revealing the billowing pool of light that was the event horizon of the stargate's wormhole. The SF's assembled at the bottom of the ramp pointed their weapons at the gate and waited. After a short pause Colonel Hill became the first to step from the wormhole, her eyes blinking as she took in the environs of the gate room.

Hill was followed by Sanderson and L'masee, the latter of whom caused the SFs to cock their weapons warily. Sanderson and Hill were waving them down as Sam and Daniel joined Landry in the control room. Thus, they were there to see Teal'c exit the stargate, a woman in a fireman's carry over his shoulder. Jones and then finally Hannah brought up the rear, Hannah waving his hand to signal the iris to be closed as he wearily tumbled forward. Harriman acted as indicated after a quick nod from Landry.

Teal'c meanwhile hadn't come to a stop; instead the Jaf'fa had ploughed on past the arranged SF's in the direction of the infirmary. Again, Landry gave a nod, this time to the team standing in the gate room, and SG-9 and Sanderson followed Teal'c.

"We'll just be...," began Daniel, pointing in the direction of the infirmary.

Landry nodded for a fourth time and had to wonder if his head would fall off because of it. Sam and Daniel had, in the mean time, bolted from the control room determined to catch up to Sanderson and SG-9. Within moments, the corridors of the SGC had opened into the space designated as the infirmary where they could see that Teal'c had already placed his burden of Captain O'Neill on a waiting bed.

Brightman and her staff of nurses were flitting about the unconscious SGC officer, collecting as many pieces of data as they felt would be useful for diagnosing O'Neill's current medical problems. Teal'c stood off to one side, almost shoulder to shoulder with L'masee with whom Teal'c was conversing in soft tones. Brightman would ask Teal'c questions about O'Neill's health, which he would then pass on to L'masee if he did not know the answer himself.

With what appeared to be a lull in the tests, Brightman's nurses now turning to do the standard post-mission checks on Teal'c, Sanderson, and SG-9, Sam and Daniel approached the chief medical officer in the hopes of an update on Jac's status.

"How is she?" asked Daniel.

The doctor looked up from her ever-present clipboard and frowned. Daniel and Sam braced themselves for the worst, Sam worried at the prospect of losing a team member before she'd even properly served with the team.

"Technically she's in good shape," said Rachel.

"Technically?" Daniel was puzzled.

Brightman nodded. "According to what I've established from L'masee, she was in a sarcophagus about twenty-four hours ago which neatly did away with her physical injuries."

Daniel shuddered at the idea of the sarcophagus. His own abuse of the device had had a lasting impact on the young man.

"Was L'masee able to tell you what happened to her before that?" asked Sam.

"Indeed," interjected Teal'c as he and L'masee approached the group.

L'masee simply nodded his head in greeting, Daniel and Sam responding in kind and Rachel Brightman not quite sure what to do with herself.

"Teal'c?"

The Jaf'fa looked at Daniel. "It appears, according to L'masee, that Ba'al spent considerable time torturing O'Neill."

Sam and Daniel winced. This wasn't a good beginning to the informal mission report.

"Although L'masee was not part of the Jaf'fa staff that attended such sessions, he was able to gather much of what he learnt from their retellings. He used both his usual methods," continued Teal'c, Daniel and Sam well aware of Ba'al's usual means of interrogation from Jack's report of two years ago, "as well as some new device that L'masee was unable to see."

Sam looked intrigued by the mention of a new alien device, even if it seemed simply designed to inflict pain.

"The interrogation sessions usually lasted a considerable time and always resulted in O'Neill being placed within a sarcophagus that Ba'al possesses. O'Neill usually required resurrection at least twice a day."

Brightman, standing a little behind Carter and Jackson, had read all of Dr. Fraiser's notes on General O'Neill's time in Ba'al's hands to prepare in dealing with Jac. She'd even travelled to Boston, firstly to let Sara know that Jac was currently missing in action, and then to help coach the married woman over what she might expect to have to deal with should Jac need respite care away from the SGC in order to recover. Brightman couldn't help but worry about what sort of damage had been wrought on Jac by the sarcophagus.

"She's going to need to go cold turkey then," mused Daniel.

Teal'c titled his head. "L'masee says that Ba'al grew tired with her resistance and after a particularly bad session had her abandoned in her cell without the use of the sarcophagus."

"Then she's through the worst of it already?"

The Jaf'fa shook his head at Sam's question. "She spent several days without the sarcophagus and only lives because L'masee pulled her from the ha'tak after using the device to restore her physical being."

"Then she's back to where she started. We need to brace ourselves for her drying out," said Dr. Brightman. "I'll—"

Whatever the medical officer was going to suggest was cut short by the high-pitched tone of Jac's heart monitor failing to register a heartbeat. Brightman was calling for a crash cart as her team swept into action, swarming over Jac's body on the gurney. Sam's heart leapt into her mouth as she and her team, along with Sanderson and SG-9, watched in horror as it looked like they might lose the Captain so soon after getting her back.

Jac's body arched under the use of the paddles and everyone let out a breath they didn't know that they had been holding when the heart monitor began to beep regularly once more.

"Get her stabilized," ordered Brightman and the nurses continued to beaver away, rechecking all the available monitors to gauge how O'Neill was doing.

Sam finally let her death grip on Daniel's upper arm end and the archaeologist was able to massage some circulation back into the abused limb. He didn't say anything; sure that Sam didn't need anything else to feel responsible for. Carter hadn't said anything, but Daniel had seen the look in her eyes and just knew that the Lt. Colonel was blaming herself for leaving Jac behind in the first place.

1114 hrs

It was with a tired sigh that Landry sat down behind his desk. He briefly wondered if Hammond got as tired as he felt now, with so many balls in the air. He had the issue of Captain O'Neill and just who she was and why the Pentagon had placed her at the SGC. Then there was the issue of General O'Neill, her 'uncle', who was still unsighted almost three months after being mysteriously moved to Washington. He had the trauma of dealing with Captain O'Neill and her recovery. He hadn't been in the infirmary when O'Neill had coded, but he'd had to sit through the report from Dr. Brightman. Then there was Munro.

Colonel Munro had, despite urging from Landry not to do so, pressed ahead with his stated intention of prosecuting the recently retrieved Captain for dereliction of duty and causing the death of Major Killian. Landry looked at the manila folder that contained Munro's formal complaint as it sat so innocuously on his desk. He knew the real motivation behind Munro's complaint, but was stumped at just how he could turn that conviction into something that could ultimately overturn the now concrete attack Munro was making.

He could try and bury the complaint and spend his energy stonewalling Munro in the hopes that the hot-headed Colonel might just get the hint that what he wanted wasn't on offer and finally withdraw his formal complaint. Landry would be happy with that and quite willing to put up with rumours that he was sleeping with Lt. Colonel Carter or Captain O'Neill or both of them together until such time as he could have Munro transferred to another facility. However, knowing Munro and his dog-with-a-bone-like perseverance with this issue, there was a good chance that the Colonel might just try and go over his head with it and cause even greater problems for Landry.

That left only two options. Either to try to talk Munro out of his goal, or to allow the matter to go to an official hearing. The latter would end up marking both Munro's and O'Neill's records permanently and Landry had to wonder if Munro was that confident in his ability to come out of such a hearing smelling of roses. If Landry had his way Munro would come out smelling of something entirely different.

If Munro was willing to risk a hearing then he obviously knew something that Landry didn't, and the General had the feeling that Munro might have someone higher up the chain of command giving tacit support to his pursuit of his complaint – or worse, egging him on.

1302 hrs

Sam woke to find herself once more in an infirmary bed and with little effort was able to turn her head in order to get an idea of what was going on. Lying in the bed next to hers was not Daniel as she might have expected, given he was labouring under the same symptoms as herself, but the form of Captain O'Neill.

"Sam?"

Carter turned her head back to find out who was talking and the familiar face of Daniel Jackson came into her field of vision.

"Did I pass out again? I recall seeing my brother."

"You did," confirmed Daniel, "and I joined in at the same time. Teal'c tells me that the place was chaos for a moment or two."

Sam struggled up into a sitting position, Daniel helping by arranging her pillows behind her back for additional support. "I recovered about ten minutes ago," continued the archaeologist.

"How is she?" Sam questioned as her gaze returned to the bedridden O'Neill.

"Brightman thinks that she's through the initial worst of it. They've used drugs to keep her under this whole time without pushing her into another cardiac arrest. But Brightman tells me that they can't keep that up for much longer, and O'Neill's going to have to deal with the rest of the withdrawal without the aid of drugs."

Sam sank back onto the bed. "Joy."

"My thoughts exactly," concurred Daniel, well aware of what withdrawal from sarcophagus abuse was like.

"Not the best first mission through the gate," sighed Sam.

"There was good and bad," summed up Daniel. "Only Killian died, and the rest of us did get to safety."

"Eventually," added Carter.

"Eventually," conceded the younger man.

"Is she going to spend considerable time in here recovering?"

Daniel shoved his hands into his trouser pockets and looked around. "Well, that's what I thought was going to happen too, given the lack of _background_ that she has."

"But?"

"But, according to Brightman she's being released into the care of one Sara Daniels, resident of Boston."

"Sara Daniels?" The name rang a bell for the just woken Lt. Colonel, but she couldn't immediately place it.

"Jack's ex-wife. The one who was here to visit Jack in the infirmary prior to his disappearance."

Sam's brain immediately skipped a track. "Didn't Brightman travel to Boston a short while ago on 'family' business?"

"My thoughts exactly," said Daniel. "Every time we look at this issue is seems less and less clear. If she's not Jack's niece and it's all a smokescreen, then why would she be interacting with Jack's ex-wife? The O'Neill surname clearly means she's from Jack's side of the family."

"Perhaps it really is just to help establish the cover by having a civilian willing to vouch for Jac's identity. I'm more worried about Mrs. Daniels' ability to deal with someone in sarcophagus withdrawal."

"The whole thing just doesn't sit well with me," admitted Daniel. "It's just one more thing on top of Jack being missing and these blasted blackouts."

Brightman emerging from her office to join Daniel by Sam's bedside interrupted the conversation at this point. "Back with us once more I see," she observed.

"'Boredom' set in a while ago, having long passed out of the 'novelty' stage. I'm now officially in 'frustration' and headed toward 'homicidal' if we don't solve this problem soon."

Brightman quirked an eyebrow at Sam's summation of the situation with the Ancient device and the side effects of activating it "If it's not solved soon then your body may give up from the strain before you snap. Are you any closer to a solution since we last discussed the problem?"

"Not really. If we could get Captain O'Neill to have a play with the device then it _might _give me better data to work with."

"Well," began Brightman hesitantly, "Captain O'Neill _might be_ in a well enough state for her to try using the device."

"That'd be great!" exclaimed Daniel, already beginning to anticipate an end to the blackouts.

"I'm willing to let her try as long as you can guarantee me that it won't hamper her recovery from the sarcophagus." The Doctor fixed Sam with a stare.

"No issues there. The whole cause of this fiasco came from my modifying it to work on humans as opposed to Ancients. The Captain's ATA gene should shield her from the effects."

Brightman nodded her head in understanding. "Fine. Then once O'Neill is good to go, I'll let her play with that device under your supervision. I'll go clear it with the General now."

December 14th, 2004

1134 hrs

It was a further three days before the returned Captain O'Neill had recovered to the point where Dr. Brightman was willing to risk having her patient put in a wheelchair and wheeled by Daniel to the lab Sam where Sam had the Ancient device that had caused so many issues. For Jac those three days had been pure hell, her newish body punished for becoming dependent on the sarcophagus as her drug-free cold turkey period began. Compared to what she could recall of the first time through after escaping Ba'al as Jack, this was a completely new level of pain.

Whereas the previous occasion had mostly passed in a surreal haze of cravings and what felt like her body falling apart bit by bit, this time Jac found everything to be lucid and clear. For Jac this was worse because she was cognizant of just how badly her body had been compromised by the addiction. She was aware of every time she involuntarily soiled herself, of her every spasm and fit that her limbs and features went through. She lived with the knowledge that to the uninformed she probably looked like raving, demon-possessed woman.

The raving part had almost been her undoing and had resulted in the ejection of all but Dr. Brightman from the secure room she been moved to after her immediate treatment. The loss of her ironclad control over her tongue had been very much a humiliation too far for her. Even when in the greatest depths of withdrawal last time she'd not allowed for anything but the most basic of conversation to pass her lips, Janet Frasier never being subjected to much more than the occasional request for water. This time, however, it was as if someone else ruled her mouth, Brightman privy to a lexicon of swear words she'd probably had never heard before.

If that had been the extent of her raving it might not have been so bad. However, Jac had simply been unable to stop herself from vividly and vocally retelling various completely off-the-books, never-to-be-mentioned military excursions that were blacker than her Black Ops days. Jac could only hope that Brightman's oath of patient confidentiality held or the good Doctor might one day end up with a bullet in her head for knowing _too much_. She was a veritable river of very carefully and very deliberately forgotten missions and personal events. After all, Brightman really didn't need to know about how the honeymoon with Sara went or the kind of noises the woman made in bed. Jac was certain that once she recovered that there was no way she could show her face in the infirmary again without dying from terminal embarrassment.

Still, finally, after three days the demon that plagued her tongue became still. Her body no longer broke out in cold sweats or rebelled and soiled herself. By the fourth day, Jac's symptoms were reduced to tremors in her limbs and the occasional full body twitch that looked akin to a fit. For that reason, she hadn't been allowed by Brightman to make the trip to the lab under her own power. She'd put up the token protest at being manhandled into the wheelchair, but between everything that Brightman had done for her since the involuntary gender change and the bone-deep tiredness that sapped her energy she found she actually appreciated the wheelchair. Not that she actually came out and said so to anyone but Brightman and only when no one else was looking or could overhear.

Daniel paused with the wheelchair on the threshold of the lab until he go the nod from Sam who was tinkering with the device. Jac looked at the object on the table and shuddered slightly.

"O'Neill?" prompted Carter.

"It reminds me of something that Ba'al had, Colonel" and it did. While not quite the same shape it appeared to be fashioned from similar material and as Daniel moved the chair closer to the table, some markings could be seen that were reminiscent of ones she'd fleetingly spotted on the things Ba'al had used on her.

"Ba'al?"

Jac nodded. "The bastard had some sort of Ancient device that he'd use on me."

"What did it do?" asked Daniel. As Jac had only recently recovered, she'd not yet provided Landry (and thus the rest of the SGC) with a mission report of her experiences since being separated on P2X-117.

Jac couldn't help but rub at the palms of her hands to ward of the phantom pain of the device. "It hurt me."

"How?"

"It caused me pain, Doctor," replied Jac through gritted teeth. "Ba'al said it was some kind of prison device that belong to a prison of the Ancient's that Anubis believed to exist."

Daniel threw a significant glance at Sam. They'd been sure that Ba'al had been looking for something specific. Now they knew what the Goa'uld was after.

"And this device looks similar?" queried Sam.

Jac nodded and pointed to the markings. "Some of these look like the ones on Ba'al's device, vaguely similar design too."

Sam stowed away the idea that both devices were conceived for an identical purpose. Then she stepped away from the device to allow Daniel to wheel Jac right up to it.

"So," asked Jac, "how is this supposed to work?"

"We're not really sure since neither of us have the ATA gene and thus no experience of interfacing with an Ancient device. From the times we've observed O'Neill, your Uncle that is, using such things, he just seemed to _feel_ his way to using them," explained Daniel.

Hearing herself referred to as someone else almost caused Jac's brain to crash and restart. She instead pushed the whole train of thought away and focused on the device. She reached out to it and did as Daniel suggested, focusing on _feeling_ the device. "Anything I should be trying to get this thing to do?"

"Focus on getting it to reset to its original parameters. That should hopefully do the trick," suggested Sam.

Her fingers make contact with the cool metal skin of the device and the soft hum filled the room. At the same time motes of light floated off the device and Jac let herself _fall_ into the operating system, her eyes fluttering closed. Just like the few other times she'd deliberately interacted with Ancient technology Jac simply let herself be carried along till something caught her attention. It was a matter of moments for her to _float_ past what seemed to Jac to be the 'system preferences', and further mere moments skipped by as she strove to understood what each one was and the changes Carter had made to them.

Some of the menu seemed blurred, Jac realizing that this was system corruption caused by Carter's hack of the system to activate the device. She reached out for what looked like some sort of reset and _squeezed_.

The result was like running into a brick wall, Jac suddenly once more aware of her surroundings. Daniel and Carter were looking at her and the quietly humming device. "Did it work?" asked Daniel.

Jac looked back at the pair. "How should I know? I did as was asked, and I _think_ I reset the device. How are we supposed to test it to see if I succeeded?"

"I guess we just have to sit around and see if Daniel or I blackout. Given how close together they were starting to happen, I think if we wait for around twenty minutes and can go that distance without Daniel or I dropping then we can safely say that it has been disarmed."

"You guess, Ma'am?" asked Jac with a lopsided look.

Sam shrugged her shoulders. "Given how little we know and understand of Ancient technology, it is an imprecise science a lot of the time."

"Well," began Daniel, "I think that if it really does match the device Ba'al was using then that explains a lot about what this blasted thing was supposed to do."

"Daniel?"

"We were looking at this device from the wrong angle, as if it was some sort of repository of knowledge accessed via some kind of virtual reality."

Sam nodded. That had been their angle of attack in investigating the device.

"But if the device Ba'al was using came from some sort of prison of the Ancients, and this (Daniel pointed at the offending object) came from the same place, might it not have some sort of similar purpose?"

"You mean as some sort of interrogation device for prisoners?" supposed Sam.

"Actually, I was thinking more along the lines of doing the same as Ba'al's device. As something that inflicts punishment."

"And how is being killed by Martouf a punishment?" queries Carter.

"Well, I imagine that when used correctly the prisoner experiences a sort of justice by _dying_ at the hands of their victims."

"Oh," said Sam in surprise at Daniel's hypothesis, "that _would_ explain why we had such a random selection of people lining up to kill us. We hadn't committed cold-blooded murder and it was struggling for 'victims'."

"Exactly."

Jac meanwhile had started making a 'time out' signal with her hands. "Just what the hell does this thing do, Colonel?"

"With Sam's modifications it was causing the pair of us to experience very vivid hallucinations of people we know who would then proceed to kill us. At that point we'd blackout."

"Fun all round then," quipped Jac. Sam and Daniel looked at her as if she'd grown an extra head. "And this is the sort of exciting hi-jinks I'm expected to get up to when I'm a part of SG-1?"

"Well, you're not exactly meant to _go_ _looking_ for it, Captain," admonished Carter.

"Don't go looking for trouble'," said Jac, as if she was making a note in some imaginary notebook. "'Is this because it usually finds SG-1?" Jac was beginning to have a bit of fun teasing Carter and Daniel. Perhaps serving with SG-1 wouldn't be such a chore if they remained oblivious to her past.

1138 hrs

Landry was quite annoyed that it had taken him this long to clear the decks and deal with the _other_ repercussion of Captain O'Neill's rescue. While Dr. Brightman had been sorting out O'Neill's initial reaction to withdrawal, L'masee had been languishing under house arrest in one of the VIP suites. Hank had initially wanted to conduct a through interrogation of the seemingly errant Jaf'fa of Ba'al's, but red tape and other administrative issues had reared their ugly heads and gotten in the way. Luckily, Teal'c, unable to help with either O'Neill in the infirmary, or with Carter and Daniel and their Ancient device, had spent most of his time in conversation with L'masee. So at least the Jaf'fa didn't feel abandoned.

With a huff of annoyance at the delays, Landry stepped out of his office and into the main briefing room where Teal'c and L'masee were already seated on opposite sides of the table. Guards stood at all the exits and an extra one stood behind L'masee at all times, at the moment he was almost towering over the Jaf'fa as he sat in the leather chair.

Dropping in a dignified manner into the chair at the head of the table Landry acknowledged the guard to L'masee's back with a nod and the man took a couple of steps back to provide an illusion of some privacy.

"Teal'c, L'masee," Hank opened.

Teal'c simply inclined his head as he was want to and L'masee executed as much as a bow as he could given he was seated.

"Well, this wasn't exactly what I was expecting to have to deal with when we recovered Captain O'Neill. Teal'c, I'm hoping that you've given L'masee a crash course in the set up and how things generally work?"

"I have, General Landry."

Hank turned to the younger Jaf'fa. "Do you understand the situation you are currently in?"

L'masee nodded. "The hok'taur O'Neill is a part of your military organization."

"And because of that, as I am her superior officer I will be the one who will be making the decision, for now, on what happens to you in the immediate future," added the General.

There was a definite pause to the conversation at that point.

"Anyway, the first thing I'd like to deal with is connections. L'masee, do you have any family or other ties to people or places off world that may create problems for either yourself or us during your stay here at the SGC?"

Teal'c suppressed a smirk at the General's question, well aware that the directness of the question and that it wouldn't be dropped till Landry was satisfied lay in the fact that he himself had omitted mentioning that he had a family off world when he'd first become a member of SG-1.

"I am unattached, if that is what you are asking General," replied L'masee. "My family was killed during an assault on my world by the forces of Anubis. O'Neill is the first person I have pledged any form of connection to since my family died and I came to serve Ba'al."

Landry nodded. "And do you believe that Ba'al is a god?" The General had to wonder at the conversation topic, recalling the wise advice that if you wanted to make friends then one should avoid discussing politics, religion, and sex.

"I... I have come to question what I previously held to be true," admittedly L'masee, Teal'c nodding along with the confession. The two Jaf'fa had spent the last few days locked in conversation, during which Teal'c had recounted his own story of going from First Prime to Free Jaf'fa leader.

"What I need to know, L'masee, is if your doubt is stronger than your commitment to Ba'al."

"You have nothing to fear, General; my pledge to O'Neill is greater than my service to Ba'al."

"Er... great," said a nonplussed Landry, "Just what does that mean in practice?"

"He means that as long as O'Neill remains a part of the SGC structure, L'masee will remain loyal to you and the rest of the SGC," explained Teal'c remembering when he too had made such a pledge, to the then Colonel O'Neill who was currently missing under strange circumstances.

"I can work with that for now," accepted Landry. He turned to L'masee, "You have to understand that Doctor Brightman considers Captain O'Neill to be in a delicate state. She'll be going off-site to recover and I can't give you a time-frame for when she'll return to active duty as a part of SG-1. Unless you're willing to spend time with another team or working with our anthropology and sociology teams here on base who wouldn't mind having another Jaf'fa to talk to. No offence, Teal'c."

The older Jaf'fa smiled slightly to show Landry that he took no offence, having long since learnt how the Tau'ri carried out much of their research through observation and analysis of many results. He knew that his was only one view of Jaf'fa society and that it differed from Bray'tac's view and most likely from L'masee's. much of this had already been discussed and debated between Teal'c and L'masee. The senior Jaf'fa explaining that the Tau'ri would most likely be unwilling to let such a recent turncoat have full run of the facility or to venture beyond its confines. The pair had debated L'masee moving off- world to join the growing ranks of the Free Jaf'fa, but the younger man had been adamant that he was not leaving Captain O'Neill for the time being.

"This has already been discussed, GeneralLandry," explained Teal'c as he went on to elaborate L'masee's position.

In the end, the three agreed that L'masee would remain on the base under supervision and interacting with the social scientists until such time as O'Neill returned to duty. At that point in time Landry wanted another meeting, perhaps even involving SG-1 and Captain O'Neill, to discuss what would happen next with regard to L'masee's future.

1203 hrs

"Time to go, Doctor Jackson," said Jac. She was already feeling low and tired, the tremors in her hands more pronounced. She would need to return to her secure room and try to sleep through her body's reactions to the withdrawal. Moreover, the required wait time plus margin or error suggested by Carter had passed and neither the senior officer nor the archaeologist had passed out, nor had they suffered through another vivid hallucination.

"Daniel," corrected the smiling man.

"Daniel," she repeated with a smile. At least some things wouldn't change even if she would have to look up to Carter as a superior officer.

As Daniel moved to take control of the wheelchair once more and Jac sank gratefully back in the seat, happy to let someone do all the work given just how tired she felt, she was beyond surprised to see Charles Kawalsky walk into the lab. It took her a few seconds to realize just what was going on, that she was party to the hallucinations that Daniel and Carter had experienced. With a worried glance, she looked to the device and realized that the three of them had left it on. Jac had reset the device so it no longer affected humans, but with her ATA gene the machine obviously thought she was an Ancient.

Jac threw a hand desperately in the direction of the device sitting on the lab table and once again tried to _feel_ the machine as she had done before, all the time trying to block out the figure of the approaching Kawalsky who was wielding a Jaf'fa staff weapon in his hands. When the hallucination's eye glowed Jac almost lost it, a reminder of the Goa'uld the last thing she needed after so narrowly escaping Ba'al.

"Captain?" queried Carter.

"I didn't turn the machine off," muttered Jac as she continued to search for a connection.

The observing pair quickly realized what was going on, but there was little they could do against such a phantom and could only watch Jac anxiously as the younger woman attempted to shut the machine down.

Kawalsky had reach Jac in her wheelchair now and stabbed the butt end of the staff weapon at her seated body. Jac couldn't help but wince at the imaginary pain blossoming in her chest as the hallucination spun the weapon around to point the business end at her. The tip split open in anticipation of firing as Jac finally connected with machine and _screamed_ 'off' at it. The weapon fired and Sam and Daniel were treated to Jac having a heart attack in her wheelchair.


	10. Silent Night

THANKS: A big thank you to Karen Joy who worked hard as my Beta on this chapter.

NOTE: /.../ denotes symbiote talking in mind, /.../ denotes host talking in mind

xxx

**TEN: Silent Night**

SGC

December 14th, 2004

1452 hrs

L'masee was the first thing that General Landry saw as he entered the infirmary, the young Jaf'fa standing by the wall much in the manner that he'd been told Teal'c had done whenever a member of SG-1 had been brought in for treatment. Because L'masee had taken that prime spot already, Teal'c had been forced to wait with Daniel Jackson and Colonel Carter. The older Jaf'fa didn't begrudge L'masee the spot since he easily understood that L'masee was keen to show the strength of his pledge of support to CaptainO'Neill, both to the woman in question and to the rest of the SGC who might doubt the sincerity of his defection.

Hank came to a stop next to the SG-1 team and looked them in the eye. Daniel came to his rescue by telling him the status of things.

"She was able to reset the device. Sam and I have been given the all clear by Brightman. But despite resetting the device, we forgot to turn it off and O'Neill was affected."

"How bad?" grunted Landry.

"Brightman thinks she went into arrest again. Luckily that should be the last time we have anybody 'dying' on us for the foreseeable future since O'Neill did manage to turn the device off before the hallucination 'killed' her."

Landry nodded in understanding. "Fine. And how is the Captain now?"

Brightman had joined them by this point. "She's stable. Luckily, this little adventure isn't going to set back her recovery. Mrs. Daniels is still on schedule to pick Captain O'Neill up tomorrow."

"Good. If that is the case, then I think the rest of SG-1 should consider themselves, from this point on, as being stood down."

"Sir?" queried Sam.

"You've one member of your team down and another two who've been through a hell of an experience, Colonel. A break is a good thing at this point. I'll reconsider my position after Christmas. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'd like to have a word with the Captain."

With a nod Landry brushed pass the assembled people and over to where Jac was being treated. She looked up as the older man approached.

"General Landry, Sir."

"At ease, Captain," replied Landry as he pulled a chair up next to the bed and sat down. "Has Doctor Brightman filled you in on the plan of attack?"

"Yes, Sir. I'm to spend some considerable downtime in Boston with my Aunt Sara." Jac had a fleeting moment of wondering about the time she had been able to say 'my wife Sara' before the thought died a natural death and she focused on the positive of the here and now.

"This isn't going to be easy roads to recovery, Captain, so don't believe that I'm expecting you back as soon as is humanly possible. I've put SG-1 on stand down for reasons of my own that have nothing to do with you, and even when they do get back they be spending time wasting paper planning our next step."

"Next step, Sir?"

"If the Goa'uld Anubis wanted these devices, possibly this prison planet too, and Ba'al wants them himself, then our best course of action is to get there first. SG-1 will be spending their time working out where to start so that we might get him at the post."

"Understood, Sir."

Landry favored her with what he believed was his fatherly smile. "Now, I want you to get some rest and come back whole, Captain."

Landry stood and straightened out his uniform, before leaving the recovering Captain to her own devices and leaving the infirmary, noting on the way out that L'masee and SG-1 were still hanging around. Walking to the elevator he wondered what sort of bomb he'd have to put under SG-1 to get them to take a break. As he punched in the floor number he wanted, Landry also thought about just how he was going to pry the truth about Captain O'Neill out of the brass above him in the chain of command. Having someone who was a plant inside his team did not sit well with him, no matter the good intentions on the part of those who had planted here there in the first place.

Jac meanwhile had idly played with her bed sheets and pondered her life so far. It had only been almost two and a half months since her forced gender change. She had already lost and gained her friends (although they were in the dark as far as that was concerned), discovered the fountain of youth, become addicted to the sarcophagus again, seemingly charmed yet another Jaf'fa away from their false god, and been tortured six ways to Sunday. Then there was the emotional breakdown she'd experienced at Sara's place in Colorado Springs, the packing up of her former home, and the sensation of dying at Kawalsky's hands.

The young woman rubbed at her shoulders as she shivered, still incredibly unsettled over the incident with the Ancient device. Now Landry was talking of SG-1 eventually trying to track down an entire planet filled with such blasted things. She had to be at least slightly insane to even consider joining them when she came back. But she was at least coming back. She'd not put up with up the rubbish that life had served up to her these past weeks only to pack up and go home. Jack may have been at the end of his career, but she was only starting hers. It may have cost Jac her original gender, but Jac felt that the future held so much more potential than it had before.

It was as she was thinking of this that the curtain drew back once more to reveal a rather shy looking Lt. Sanderson.

"Lieutenant," she acknowledged.

"Captain," replied Sanderson as he sat down. "I've heard that you're on the mend."

"And I've heard you had a hand in my rescue. Thank you."

"It's the least I could do, Ma'am, especially after you didn't leave me behind on '117." Sanderson tugged nervously on his collar and didn't quite meet Jac's eyes.

Jac meanwhile had noted that SG-1 had hovered into view behind the Lieutenant. Sanderson saw the shift in her eyes and looked over his shoulders to see the gawkers. He bolted up from the seat, made his apologies, and then left the infirmary.

The three other members of SG-1 sized up the woman in the bed, and like Landry, they too were irked at the revelation that she wasn't really who she seemed to be. It was like a small, tangible connection to Jack had faded like morning mist when they'd discovered she wasn't connected to Jack at all. Still, the poor young woman didn't appear to be a malicious plant within the SGC and for now, the three were willing to see where things went.

And that was why Sam was quite happy to go on the offensive by embarrassing her. "He's cute, I guess."

"Who?" asked Jac, forehead furrowing as she tired to understand what Carter was saying.

"Sanderson," Sam explained as she took the recently vacated seat at the bedside.

"Sanderson?"

"Looks like the young man has a crush on you," Sam explained. She could see Daniel with a look of surprise on his face and shook her head, silently laughing. 'Men'.

Teal'c however didn't look surprised, Daniel noticing the same thing. "You knew?"

Teal'c bowed slightly at the archaeologist's question. "Indeed."

Jac meanwhile was in a horrifying tailspin at the idea that Sanderson_ liked_ her. "You're sure?" she managed to ask, voice cracking slightly.

Sam nodded, not quite sure why the young woman seemed so terrified at such a simple observation. Perhaps this 'O'Neill' wasn't as experienced about the opposite sex as General O'Neill had appeared. This could be explained if she'd been off doing something so top secret that the Air Force or someone else needed to hide her away for a while. Sam imagined that that sort of off-the-radar work didn't leave much time for socializing. It was something Sam was well aware of, her mess of a relationship with Pete close to the forefront of her mind.

"Great. What am I supposed to do?"

Having decided that the Captain was a little on the naive side, Sam gave her a gentle smile. "I'm afraid I can't make that choice for you, but I suggest you give it a little thought before you act."

Jac snorted since she'd rather _not_ think about it if at all possible. She filed this matter under things to talk to Sara about when the older woman turned up tomorrow.

"So, uh," began Daniel, clearing his throat to skip the awkward topic, "how are you feeling?"

Jac leveled an 'are you an idiot?' gaze on the poor archaeologist.

"I'm just peachy. How about you?" replied Jac sarcastically.

"I'm good. Look, we came over here to see if we can organized some team time with you."

"Team time? What is that, some sort of cartoon?" Jac sniped; fatigue and the clawing need of the addiction sapping her self control.

"CaptainO'Neill, hold your tongue," requested Teal'c darkly.

"Sorry," she muttered. "Look, can we have this conversation some other time? With the state I'm in, I'm likely to try and bite your heads off if I don't get some rest. Ma'am?" Jac looked to Carter.

"We understand. We'll hold off on the 'team time' till you're back from Boston."

"Thank you," smiled Jac, already loosing the fight against the siren call of the pillows behind her head. She fell asleep with SG-1 still watching on.

Michael & Sara Daniels' apartment, Boston

December 18th, 2004

0612 hrs

Sara slipped out of bed, Michael still sleeping on his half, and leaving her husband behind she padded her barefoot way to the room where Jac had slept for the past three days since coming back to Boston in her company. After Jac's admission back in October to the effect that the sarcophagus had had on her in the past, Dr. Brightman's revelation of what had happened to the neo-woman in the three weeks that she had been back at the SGC had left the older woman very frightened for Jac. Both she and Brightman were worried that the effects of the sarcophagus withdrawal would undo all that Jac had achieved in coming to terms with her new gender.

Just as with the previous mornings Sara's sleep had been disturbed by the cries coming from Jac's room, Sara feeling that at the very least this was proving very good practice for when her child was born. That was still some six months away and already she could see just how much use Michael was going to be, given he'd not once stirred at the sound of Jac crying out in the night. Pushing open completely the partially opened door to Jac's room, Sara entered and made her way to Jac's bedside.

Sitting herself on the edge of the bed she gathered the younger woman into her arms, Jac's head falling into her lap, and she began stroke Jac's long, dark hair. She found herself humming the tune to a lullaby she had once used to help send Charlie to sleep. Sara had to consider the strangeness that had filled her life that led to her singing a lullaby, once sung to her dead son, to her ex-husband turned niece. If this was just a sample of the weirdness that Jac had dealt with on a daily basis for eight or so long years then Sara was glad that what she was having to put up so very little in her own life. It put them into some sort of grand context.

Jac settled a little in Sara's arms, her distressed cries dropping to small whimpers and a tremor ran through her body as it continued to fight the addiction plaguing it. After a time the younger woman's eyes fluttered and Sara knew she was going to wake very soon. The first time that Jac had found herself in her ex-wife's arms a couple of days ago had been a hideously embarrassing affair. Mostly for Jac who didn't know what she should be feeling or how she should react to something she hadn't experienced in roughly a decade – waking up to find Sara in her bed in only her night clothes.

After that _little_ hurdle had been jumped, the tension had considerably eased and Jac found herself feeling reassured and safe to find Sara holding her as she woke. Sara meanwhile had worries about how long Jac was going to be affected like this and was in daily contact with Dr. Brightman, usually a phone call last thing at night. Jac was strong, the mere fact everything that life had thrown at her so far hadn't completely destroyed her was indicative of that, yet both older women were concerned that even Jac had her limits and were given to wonder if those limits had been reached while she was under the heel of Ba'al.

Eventually, after a half hour of hugging the younger woman, Sara felt her beginning to stir and before long Jac had opened her eyes to greet the new day.

"I was crying again, wasn't I?" queried Jac, her questioned muffled somewhat by her mouthful of her own hair. When she had first become a woman she'd been frustrated at waking up with her own hair smothering her face and the 'bed hair' that went along with it. She had almost been tempted to have it all cut off with the traditional military haircut. Sara had quite firmly put an end to that idea, instead leading Jac towards a haircut that met regulations and not one that might make her appear somewhat 'butch'. Jac had to wonder if this was just another thing that Carter had dealt with, and recalled Daniel's description of the longhaired alternate-Carter that had been engaged to the other-Jack.

Sara nodded in reply to Jac's question and gently released the younger woman from her arms. As she sat up in bed, Jac brushed her hair away from her face and sighed.

"You really are expecting too much from yourself, Jac," said Sara with a sad look, "if you expect yourself to be right so soon after such trauma."

Jac took fistfuls of her bed sheets in her hands and squeezed as she dealt with her anger at her weaknesses. "It's just so frustrating! Even after Iraq I wasn't like this."

The look from Sara was enough for Jac to retract her fudging of the truth. "Okay, okay. So I was something of an uncommunicative basketcase! At least I felt like I was making progress."

"You are making progress, Jac," reassured the older woman. "It just doesn't feel like it because for the first time you're doing it in a body you've not had for very long. You're still adjusting."

"Adjusting," muttered Jac.

Sara turned the younger woman's face to meet her own. "That's right, adjusting. It has not even been three whole months since your whole life was put in blender. It is going to take time and you are going to have to allow yourself that time, Jac, or it will take you even longer to reach where you want to be."

"Why do you always have to be so damned reasonable," grumbled Jac as she began to relax, her hands releasing their death-grip on her bed sheets. She followed the grumbled with a small-hiccupped laugh.

The older woman giggled a little at the sound and wrapped a friendly arm around Jac, drawing her back to her. "Hot drink?"

"Hmmm," replied Jac and nodded.

The pair stood and, after collecting dressing gowns for themselves, made their way to the kitchen where Sara put on the kettle for an early morning cup of coffee. Jac meanwhile wandered over to the main apartment window in the living room where she gazed out over the dark Boston skyline, dawn just a tiny, hazy blob on the horizon.

Sara came to stand behind her and take in the same view. Jac caught the expression on the woman's face via the reflection in the window and turned her head to look back at Sara. "I know that look, Sara. What is it that you want to tell me?"

"Not tell you," replied Sara, playing with her hands in another expression Jac knew so well, "but ask you."

"Well? I'm all ears."

At that moment, the silence was broken by the sound of the kettle switching itself off having come to the boil. Sara asked Jac to take a seat at the table while she prepared the drinks. The older woman returned to the living room with the steaming mugs in her hands, passing one to Jac before she too sat down at the table and rested her own cup on the wooden surface. Jac gestured for her to go ahead.

"Two things. First, Michael and I were wondering if you would like to be our child's godmother?" Sara caressed her vaguely bulging belly as she said 'our child'.

Jac felt something twist in her guts as she suddenly flashed back to when Sara had told Jack she was pregnant with Charlie.

"Jac?"

"Sorry," mumbled the younger woman as she averted her face to disguise her tears.

"If...if you do want, I understand. Michael won't take offence either."

"No!" Jac took a deep breath and centred herself. Focus on the future. "No," she began again, more calmly, "I'd be honoured to be your kid's godmother."

Sara returned Jac's watery smile with a slightly happier one of her own. "Thank you," she whispered.

Running the back of her hand over her eyes Jac sniffed and took a drink of her coffee. "Damn hormones," she growled lightly.

Sara giggled again and shook her head. "You can't hide behind your hormones forever, Jac. Even though you tried hard not to show it when you were male, you've always been a big softie. Don't let yourself hide that side of you again."

"Enough with the wisdom, 'Yoda'," whined Jac, already feeling a little better about herself. "What was the other thing you wanted to ask me?"

The mood immediately became a little more somber once more and Jac returned to her drink.

"I wanted to know if you wanted to come with me when I plan to visit Charlie's grave next week?"

Jac demonstrated her deer-caught-in-headlights look for Sara, her brain struggling to process just what she had been asked.

Daniel's apartment, Colorado Springs

December 23rd, 2004

1738 hrs

Daniel was not surprised by the knock on the door to his apartment. With Captain O'Neill's rescue, now behind them and the officer in question hidden away somewhere to rest and recover from her ordeal at the hands of Ba'al, General Landry had stood SG-1 down till Christmas had passed. Sam had shortly after that managed to talk Daniel out of his annual 'dig in the sandpit' (as Jack had once termed it) as she had promised Cassandra she would do. The younger woman had arrived the previous day and had set up camp at Sam's apartment, arranging on the phone with Daniel to pay him a visit. Teal'c had meanwhile taken the opportunity provided by the downtime to pay a visit to his family, although he promised to be back in time for Christmas Day so that Cassandra could catch up with him.

Thus Daniel wasn't surprised when he answered his door to find Sam and Cassandra on his doorstep with expectant faces. Cassie looked energized, but Sam appeared to dealing with some vexing issue. After a powerful and heartfelt hug from the younger woman, the archaeologist ushered them inside his home and fetched them drinks, soda for Cassie (who complained about being treated like a little girl) and coffee for Sam. Daniel poured himself another coffee at the same time, having not indulged in the drink for all of forty-five minutes. Passing out the drinks, he took a seat for himself and took a long sip.

"So," began Cassie before Daniel could find the right words to inquire about her college life, "what's the latest on Jack?"

"Ah, well, Jack is... Jack. You know how it is?"

Cassandra just raised an eyebrow at that answer and looked to Sam. "You didn't tell him that you had told me?"

"We've been busy," exclaimed Sam in her own defence. "It slipped my mind that I'd told you."

"Okay," said Daniel interrupting the potential squabble, "Cassie knows that Jack was transferred elsewhere."

Cassandra nodded, "So, what's new?"

"Nothing actually," Daniel replied in frustration.

"Nothing? What have you guys been doing, sitting on your asses?"

Sam frowned at Cassandra's language. "We've been stumped at every turn, Cassandra, and we've exhausted all our possible avenues of information so far. General Hammond and Dr. Brightman both know more, but appear to be bound to silence on the matter. Barrett is still keeping an ear to the ground for us should anything new surface, but he's not holding out much hope, and the woman we thought might be able to tell us we've since learnt is most likely completely ignorant of the whole situation."

Running a hand through her hair in frustration Sam stood up and paced the living room. The other two looked at her and then exchanged a look.

"Family problems," summed up Cassandra in answer to Daniel's unspoken question.

"Is it Pete?" the archaeologist asked of Carter.

Halting in her pacing Sam picked up her drink from the coffee table and looked out one of the darkened windows. "Sort of?"

"Sort of?" pressed Daniel.

"Dad was able to get leave from the Tok'Ra to visit this holidays and I was expecting a little quiet time, just the pair of us, while Cassandra was with you and Teal'c."

"But?"

Sam scowled into her coffee. "Mark called yesterday and told me he's bringing his family to Colorado Springs for a family Christmas."

"Okay," said Daniel, not quite following Sam's train of thought.

"Oh, Daniel, it's going to be a huge mess. They're already here; Mark left a message on my answer phone while Cassie and I were out earlier."

"I'm still not understanding, Sam..."

The Colonel turned away from the window and looked at Daniel and Cassandra watching her carefully. "It's like the last few years I've been juggling a several different balls, but only one at a time. There was Dad, and then there was Mark, and Pete, and... _Jack_..."

Cassie gave a small gasp to hear Sam actually finally acknowledge the elephant in the corner of the room that she had been steadfastly ignoring.

"But," continued Sam, "that was fine when I was juggling them one at a time. Dad can't visit often, I've only been with Pete for a roughly a year, Mark has been somewhat estranged still, and Jack was just as far away as ever."

"And now?"

"And now it's like I've suddenly having to juggle all those balls at the same time. Jack is missing, Mark has barged in on my time with Dad, and he's dragged Pete along with him."

"Pardon?" Daniel played with his glasses as he tried to worm past Sam's emotional walls and get to the heart of the problem.

"Mark invited Pete to the family Christmas get together he's organized for tomorrow at my place."

"What exactly are you so angry about? Is it Mark organizing all this and taking the control out of your hands, or is it Pete coming along and ignoring your wish for some time and space?"

"Both. Plus the added bonus that I've not actually told Dad about Pete yet. I've the feeling that Mark is trying to ambush me into a decision I'm not yet ready to make."

Cassandra watched the exchange in silence, knowing that opening her mouth right now was probably not the wisest move. Daniel was good with words and it was better left to him.

"But you did say 'yes' to Pete's proposal," pointed out Daniel. "Surely your father deserves to know."

"Daniel!" cut out Sam through clenched teeth.

Okay, observed Cassandra, maybe Daniel didn't _always_ know the right words.

"I'm playing 'Devil's Advocate' here, Sam! You've so totally compartmentalized your life that you are struggling to deal with the messy reality that existence."

Sam took an angry drink of her coffee, but didn't say a word, and Daniel took that at his cue to talk further.

"At the most basic level, Sam, this is all about whether or not you want to go through with a marriage to Pete. You've heard both Teal'c's and my own views on the matter and I'm sure Cassie here has given her views as well. From what you've said, it looks like Mark had pronounced his own verdict too. However, the only viewpoint that matters here is your own! Unless you're going to do whatever your father thinks is best when he learns of the engagement?"

"No. I'll agree that his judgment is important to me, but the choice is my own."

Daniel sighed in relief. "Then the answer is simple."

"Really?" asked Sam with a sarcastic edge to her tone.

"Really," replied Daniel with a nod of his head. "Tell your father about the engagement as soon as possible, and tell him everything you've told me, Teal'c, and Cassie about how you feel right now. Do that, and you've taken all the advantage out of Mark's potential ambush. Your father won't have the chance to be prejudiced by your brother's view of things, and if you explain how this is something you need to work through on your own then he may even help during Christmas by helping keep the engagement from becoming a topic of discussion."

Carter could see the logic in Daniel's arguments and nodded her head slightly in acknowledgement of them. She was still harbouring a lot of stress over the potential nightmare the family dinner might dissolve into if she and her brother couldn't remain on cordial terms for the duration, but Daniel's talk had helped ease things for her. She moved from the window and put her cup back down on the coffee table.

"Thank you, Daniel," she said with real affection as she gave him a sisterly hug.

As they broke apart, Daniel could see the unshed tears in Sam's eyes. "Um... ahh," he struggled, his eloquence suddenly deserting him.

"I... uh... need to use the bathroom," Sam said awkwardly and quickly made her way out of the living room. Daniel and Cassandra both knew she was trying to save face by having a cry where the others couldn't see her.

"I'll give her ten minutes and then knock on the door," announced Cassie knowingly.

Michael & Sara Daniels' apartment, Boston

1825 hrs

Jac's initial 'drying out' had taken place during the handful of days she'd spent in the infirmary at the SGC immediately after her rescue from Ba'al. By the time she had been released into Sara's care she had been coherent and no longer prone to seizures or fits that had come about as her body had weaned itself off its dependency on the sarcophagus. However, it was still only roughly a week since she'd been discharged and her nights had been filled with all manner of night terrors. Then there was the added burden of her weakened body that left her with very little energy.

Sara was patiently taking it all one day at a time while Jac fought to curb her natural instinct to try to rush her recovery. The gender bent Captain achieved this considerable feat of willpower by focusing on ensuring that her new identity was a true as possible, which meant getting her scientific background up to scratch. Thus, her free time was largely spent lounging on the sofa reading every science journal that Dr. Brightman had managed to smuggle out of Colonel Carter's private stash. She was good with what she knew, but an extended time as Jack O'Neill had meant that she had fallen well behind with modern advances in her fields of study. If she wasn't completely up to date then Carter would easily become suspicious and that was the last thing she needed right now given SG-1 seemed to welcome her with open arms.

Sara had finally brought up the subject of Charlie between them by asking about visiting their son's grave. It had been previously skirted around when Jac had learnt that Sara was pregnant, but till then had not been discussed since Jack's encounter with the crystalline entity during SG-1's first year of operations. Since she had raised the idea of a joint visit, the pair had spent a lot of therapeutic time talking it over and drinking coffee in various nice cafes adjacent to decent shopping areas. Jac was well aware of the concept of 'shopping' as therapy, although when she was Jack her purchases had leant towards things such as _The Simpsons_ on DVD.

The together time that Jac and Sara spent during Jac's time in Boston was retail therapy of a decidedly female bent. Sara had rationalized it with several reasons, such as Jac needing further time spent around other women, of learning a discerning eye for fashion so she wouldn't be a disgrace to her new sex; as well as keeping her from dwelling on her torture under Ba'al and the withdrawal she was still recovering from. This all meant that Jac had, instead of buying _The Simpsons _Season Five which had been released on DVD on the twenty-first of December, come home with a new wardrobe of clothes and shoes to wear. Jac wasn't quite sure when she'd get to wear it all, but Sara had insisted that she would need it all at some point in the future. Some of the more revealing items had caused Jac to raise her eyebrow at Sara, who had simply given her a level stare and argued about being happy with her body and feeling good about how she looked.

_That_ had been something that Jac had tried to give as little thought to from choice. But being in Ba'al's hands, literally on one occasion, had reminded Jac about the age-old dance between men and women. While it wasn't what Sara had been referring to in talking about feeling good about one's own body, the older woman had been talking about self-esteem and not getting trapped in negative mind sets, the concept of sex had hovered fitfully on the edge of Jac's conscious without ever going away. Although Dr. Brightman had cheerfully informed Jac shortly after her gender swap that she was once again physically a virgin, she wasn't in any way mentally one.

But it wasn't the mechanics of such an encounter that daunted Jac, it was approaching them from the other side. She had rebuilt her life as a twenty-four-year-old woman, but somehow when it came to the concept of sex she had initially sort of seen herself as an older man. Jac had screwed up her face the first time she'd tried to picture herself engaged in such an activity with a man. Admittedly, picturing Daniel as the man involved probably hadn't been a wise decision. Since then, she had tried to picture vague, phantom-like male figures when she had mentally debated her status on the subject.

It had been a long road, interrupted by Ba'al, but Jac had finally reached the point where she wasn't the man involved when she pictured such an occasion. It was a small triumph not to feel like throwing up picturing Jack with another man. But she had firmly told herself that even though she could now _picture_ _herself_ having sex as a woman, actually going through with the act in reality was still a _long_ way off. Like when hell froze over.

Meanwhile, the result of all this one-on-one time with Sara was the decision for the pair of them to visit Charlie's grave by themselves when it came time for Jac to return to the SGC in late January. How that was going to go, Jac wasn't sure since the pair hadn't been to Charlie's grave together since the funeral when Jack had been doing his best to bury himself in his grief. Letting that train of thought go, Jac feel herself slide back to being fully cognizant of her situation which was a quiet dinner with Sara and Michael at the dinner table.

With a deep sigh, Jac gently scooped up a selection of salad with her fork and brought it to her mouth, her arm shaking only slightly. She knew that Sara was watching her like a hawk out the corner of her eye, while Michael seemed oblivious, keen to keep Jac from over exerting herself and putting back her recovery. This was especially important since Sara had promised that dinner the following night would be more intensive with many of those that Jac had met on her initial visit coming for a more formal dinner. Jac was sure that Sara had already picked out which dress she thought would best suit the younger woman.

Samantha Carter's apartment, Colorado Springs

December 24th, 2004

1733 hrs

After putting her game face back on the previous evening, Sam had been able to push all her problems to the back of her mind and focus on having an enjoyable evening with Daniel and Cassandra. She could hear Daniel's voice in her head about compartmentalizing her life but had shrugged it off. As arranged, she'd left Cassie at Daniel's and would see the pair again on the twenty-fifth when she brought Teal'c from the SGC for a late lunch Christmas Day. Of course this putting the inevitable off that evening had come back to bite her in the form of very little sleep that night. Even her father had remarked on how awful she had looked the following morning when she had collected him from the SGC.

As Daniel had suggested, Sam had used the drive back to her place as the opportunity to tell her father about Pete. Jacob Carter, after blinking a couple of times, had admitted to not being terribly surprised by such a revelation as Teal'c had apparently spilled the beans some time ago when the pair had chanced across each other one day on-site at the SGC. That had eased Sam's mind considerably since her father hadn't contacted the SGC in that time to shout at his daughter about her relationship choices. Jacob told her he knew only what the Jaf'fa had told him, which wasn't much, and so Sam had used the drive home to fill her father in on all the details she thought were relevant.

It was as she pulled the car up outside her apartment complex that her father had turned to her and asked her why she had chosen now to tell him about Shanahan.

"It was Daniel," she confessed.

"Daniel?"

"I guess I was at the end of my rope," continued Sam, "and my relationship with Pete was just one of a few issues I'm dealing with. Daniel thought if I told you it might ease up the pressure I feel I'm under."

"Pressure, Sam? You usually thrive under that. What is really going on here?"

As the pair exited the car and Sam locked up, they dropped into step beside each other and walked inside.

"Mark sprung a family get together on me only a few days ago. He's flown his family here for Christmas."

Jacob had a smile on his face at spending some time with his son and extended family. He'd only reconciled with Mark around the time he'd become host to Sel'mak and felt touched by Mark making the effort to spend time together as a family. Sel'mak however was a little less emotionally involved.

**He doesn't know that Jacob is coming, does he?**

Sam had jumped slightly at Sel'mak's sudden appearance as she opened the door to her apartment, took a breath and ushered her father and his symbiote inside. Once the door had closed Jacob had coughed out in surprise, "What do you mean he doesn't know I'm coming? Why else would Mark make this sort of effort?"

**Perhaps we should ask your daughter, Jacob**, replied Sel'mak, fixing Sam with glowing eyes.

Carter sank back against the closed front door and rubbed her forehead in exhaustion. "Dad... Mark has organized all this for a completely different reason."

"Which is?"

"I expressed a few doubts about the engagement to Pete and he graciously gave me time and space to sort out what I really wanted."

Both Sel'mak and Jacob were given to wonder if some of that was given over to thinking about General O'Neill.

"I hear a 'but', Sam..."

"But," enunciated Sam, "Mark seems to think the whole situation is cut and dried and that I'm merely dragging my feet and making Pete feel bad in the process. He brought Pete around to my apartment a while ago and attempted to shout me into putting the wedding back on track for April."

"And?" prompted Jacob knowing there had to be more to this if Sam had obviously felt the need to reveal her relationship with Pete before she was comfortable with doing so.

"Dad, Mark has invited Pete along to the dinner tonight. I think he's going to try an ambush me into a concrete decision before I'm ready."

"And an engagement isn't concrete?"

Sam looked like she wanted to cry and so simply hung her face to hide her eyes from her father. "No," she said in a small voice, "otherwise I'd have been married to Jonas Hansen long before now and this conversation would be moot."

"Oh, Sam," said Jacob Carter in a more soothing voice as he took his daughter in his arms and let her cry on his shoulder in great, silent, wracking sobs.

Leading her to the sofa Jacob had them both sit as he rubbed her back and let her get it all out of her system. "How about I run a little defence for you tonight then, huh?"

Looking up at the open countenance of her father's face, Sam gave him a strong smile and wiped at her tears with her fingers till Jacob snatched up a tissue from the box on the coffee table and passed it to her.

"If you could do that, Dad, I'd be forever grateful."

"So," he began after a period of silence, "you've spoken to Daniel about all this. Makes sense I suppose since Teal'c would just give you the silent routine and eventually say something so profound that you wouldn't know how to put it into practice, and I doubt Jack would want to talk to you about your fiancé."

Neither father nor daughter dared skirt any closer to that topic. An embarrassing revelation in front of the Tok'Ra Anise was more than enough on that subject.

"Not that _Jack_ is around to ask anyway."

Holding her by the shoulders and at arms length, Jacob caught Sam's eye and she watched as his flashed gold.

**What had happened to O'Neill, Samantha?**

Sam looked away. "He's not here."

"What do you mean not here? Not here as in MIA, as in dead? What?"

"We don't know!" snapped Sam, before she apologized to her father and stalked into the kitchen.

Jacob followed her there at a slower pace to give her some time to herself and watched as she set about making coffee for herself and pouring him a orange juice. She stopped in mid-effort and rested her palms on the cool, metal sink bench.

"According to what little General Landry can tell us, he was transferred to Washington. Yet we, SG-1 I mean, can't find him there. According to Barrett—"

"Barrett?"

"NID spook," clarified Sam. "According to him Jack hasn't been seen in Washington since he was supposedly transferred there at the start of October. He believes that Jack might be involved in some sort of Black Ops mission off world."

"That's almost three months ago, Sam."

Sam nodded. "Doctor Brightman and General Hammond know something, but both are unwilling to tell us what it is that they _do_ know. It's so frustrating that sometimes I just want to yell and scream at them."

As Sam went back to working on the coffee Jacob sized up the tense body posture of his daughter and decided to offer what little help he could. "Look, I'll talk to George before I leave and then I'll see what the Tok'Ra can scare up off world just in case he's somewhere on the other side of the gate."

Sam's smile was better than the one she'd given him in the living room. "Thanks, Dad," she said in an almost whisper.

"In the meantime," joked Jacob, "shall we devise a battle strategy to deal with my matchmaking son?"

Both Sel'mak and Jacob delighted in the small laugh they'd winkled from their ever-so-serious daughter.

The father and daughter, and hanger-on symbiote, spent the day simply relaxing and enjoying each other's company, feeling closer than they had for a long time. Once in a blue moon Jacob had a pang of regret that being a Tok'Ra member meant a great deal of time spent away from Earth and his daughter, but he'd then always remember that he had this time _because_ he was part of the Tok'Ra now. As the afternoon had dragged on towards six in the evening, the impending arrival of Mark and assorted baggage, Sam winced at inadvertently calling Mark's wife Charlotte and her two kids that, Jacob and Sel'mak had watched as Sam's cheerful mood slowly deteriorated.

Finally, as it drew close to six in the evening, Jacob spotted a rental car pulling up outside the apartment complex and called back to the kitchen to let Sam know that the rest of the family arrived. From the window he was observing from Jacob watched as Mark and Charlotte marshaled their kids while another man of Mark's age, obviously Pete Shanahan, lingered at the back of the group. He shuffled his feet awkwardly and had his hands stuffed in his pockets. Sel'mak couldn't tell from this distance if such behavior indicated concern at violating Sam's wishes for time and space, in which case Jacob faulted the younger man for not having the spine to stand up to Mark, or because he was feeling guilty about something else, in which case Jacob wanted to know what it was.

/You are not giving this man a chance to impress, Jacob,/ Sel'mak gently chided her host in his mind.

/So?/

/May I remind you that your daughter has chosen to engage herself to him?/

/She did the same with that bastard, Hansen. Sam's not always had the greatest discernment when it comes to men./

/I can see you are thinking of her final year at High School,/ remarked Sel'mak. /

Jacob grunted and turned away from the window. /I'm still not won over. I don't think Sam is either, else she would have informed me about him long before now./

The host felt Sel'mak 'smile' in his mind. /I don't think there is any man on this planet, or indeed this galaxy, which you would deem suitable for your daughter, Jacob. You must let her make her own choices. She is an adult after all./

The buzzer to the apartment complex went and Sam stepped out of the kitchen to answer it and let the group into the building. While Sam returned to her cooking duties, Jacob stared long and hard at the door in silence. Sel'mak waited for his reply to her reasoned point of view. It was only as there was a knock at the door that Jacob finally said, /It may be her decision, Sel'mak, but I'm still going to check this man from head to toe./

Jacob opening the door put an end to the conversation and Sel'mak knew that Jacob had waited till that moment to reply in order to have the last word in the debate. She was quite happy to let him win since she was sure he'd come around to her way of thinking eventually. On the other side of the door, with fist raised to knock again, was Mark, his family a step behind him and Pete a further step back, head turned to look off down the corridor.

"Dad?" questioned Mark in utter surprise. Here was a wrench in his grand design.

"Mark, it's good to see you again." He pulled his son into an embrace before the younger man had time to think about it. Ushering the group into the apartment he closed the door behind them and remarked that, "Sam had said that she didn't have the chance to inform you the last time you two talked that she had already arranged to have me here for Christmas."

"So we can see," smiled Charlotte diplomatically. "It's good to see you again, Jacob." She gave Jacob a brief hug, already able to sense some sort of tension in the air, focussed on getting herself, and her kids out of their coats and off into the living room. Over her shoulder Jacob had carefully observed Mark and Pete removing their jackets.

With a little cough into his hand, Mark gestured to Pete who had looked at everything in sight except for Jacob. "Dad, this is Pete Shanahan. He's Sam's fiancé."

"So Sam tells me," quipped Jacob dryly.

/Behave,/ chided Sel'mak.

"I understand you are police officer, Shanahan?" Jacob used the question to direct the two younger men towards the living room in order to forego shaking Pete's hand. Jacob wasn't sure he wanted to endorse the man quite so soon after meeting him.

"Yes, I'm with the Denver force."

Pete was well past regret at this stage. Regret that he'd experienced shortly after drunkenly agreeing to Mark's plans for him to attend the family Christmas dinner. He'd been forced to wonder if he reeked of anxiety since Charlotte had been giving him odd looks in the car ever since they'd picked him up earlier. Now he was face to face with Sam's father, General Jacob Carter. A surprise he hadn't needed given how spectacularly he was failing at heeding Sam's request for the chance to sort out her feelings. The way Jacob had greeted him and Mark was a clear sign that Sam's father wasn't _enthusiastic_ about the match.

Therefore, it was a fairly nervous Pete that took a seat in the living room next to Jacob while Mark and Charlotte took another sofa to themselves. The two kids arranged themselves in one corner of the living room with some toys and coloring books and seemed content for the moment. The promise of food shortly was probably clinched the deal. After a pregnant pause, Jacob slapped his knees in an exaggerated manner and stood. A slight smirk on his face in anticipation of blowing Mark's plans clear out of the sky, Jacob asked for drink orders.

Armed with a short listed of wanted drinks Jacob wandered into the kitchen where Sam was just checking the oven. He tapped her on the shoulder and said, "Tag, you're it. Go out and talk to them while I fix the drinks."

Sam held her father's hand on her shoulder for a moment and looked carefully at him. "How is it looking?"

Jacob chuckled. "I figure all I need to do is shout 'boo!' and Pete will pass out, or wet himself – or both."

"Dad!" Sam could see the humor in the situation, but the man in question was _still_ her fiancé. Although she was leaning towards ending the relationship, she wasn't quite committed to that path yet. All this chaos over two O'Neills wasn't proving conducive to making a clear-cut decision. A small part of Sam was busy telling her that she was over thinking things again.

With a small smile, Sam shrugged her father's hand off her shoulder and waltzed off into the living room secure in the knowledge that her father was fighting her corner for her.

Michael & Sara Daniels' apartment, Boston

1846 hrs

The quiet dinner party was going along charmingly. Michael, Jac had learned from Sam, was the only member of his family beyond his wife and coming child, a situation that Jac had more than a little empathy for having had such an existence as Jack, and so the father-to-be had no other family with which to celebrate the season. Sara _did_ have extended family, something Jac knew quite well having met them all at some stage as Jack, but had chosen to pass up the invitation to such a family event in order for her and her husband to forge some bonds of friendship in their new neighborhood.

Thus Jac was sat at the long wooden table with roughly three-and-a-half months pregnant Sara and her husband Michael. Also seated at the table, now reaching the end of the dessert course that Jac and Sara had slaved over the night before was the assembled invited guests. Michael had unwillingly, taken the head of the table with Sara to his right and Jac to his left. Jac had a feeling that Sara had had a hand in selecting the seating given she had found to her left a young man by the name of William Quigley.

William, whom she hadn't met before on her previous visit to Boston, was a guest of Michael's choosing. At thirty-one years of age, he was a junior partner in the law firm that Michael had successfully joined, single, as Sara had none too subtly hinted in an earlier conversation before dinner, and possessing an easy manner and pleasant countenance. Jac was sure that if she'd still been male, in which case she probably wouldn't even _be_ at this dinner in the first place, she might have just decked William by now.

The list of positive qualities that she had already mused upon might have held some sway over her had she not already tabled the _idea_ of relations with a man until she was far more comfortable with her new gender. Even if she had been of the mind to be more open to the _idea_ at this point in time, poor William had a further disadvantage in any attempt he might make to flirt with her. His conversation had the unfortunate distinction of reminding Jac of Jay Felger.

Dinner had, as a result of this, passed with much amusement on Jac's side as she ran verbal rings around the slightly baffled lawyer. She did have to wonder just how good he was at his profession if he got this confused and tongue-tied around a plain woman such as herself. Sara on the other hand, having come to the conclusion that her clever seating plan was working rather too well, watched the pair out the corner of her eye and had wondered at Jac's flirting with William Quigley, pondering if the young woman knew just how William was taking the conversation.

From what little she had overheard when not attending to a conversation of her own, she had quickly ascertained that William was deliberately making errors in order to delight in Jac's smug grin and light laugh. He wasn't in love, but could easily go that way quite quickly. With a small nod to herself, Sara reminded herself to have a woman-to-woman chat with Jac after the guests had gone home. Jack had always been something of an insular individual and hard to read at even the best of times, and Jac retained that particular trait. Somehow the vaguely sarcastic, bouncy side, which was also possessed by both incarnations, softened that hard shell when he was a she. The result being that Jac was somehow more approachable as a woman than as a man, even if the essentials were unchanged.

Yes, thought Sara. She would need to have word with Jac about her approach to conversation, unchanged since their failed marriage, as what was seen as friendly banter between men could be easily mistaken for flirting when between members of the opposite sex. For now, Sara merely signalled the end of dinner and the progression of the company to the living room in order to break up Jac and William. Sara came to rue that decision since it meant that Jac had to stand up and, unconsciously, sway her way out of the room much to the obvious delight on Quigley's face as he followed her.

That feminine sway was complemented by the dress that Sara had chosen for Jac to wear for the occasion, one that accentuated her figure in all the right places without being too daring for Jac to even consider wearing. Jac may have been quite happy with her body image and reconciled to being female, but that didn't mean she was anywhere near ready to start displaying her _wares_. The choice of dress had been a point of contention for roughly half an hour before Jac had given in, not really wanting to be on the outs with a pregnant Sara who was doing her best to help her adjust to her new life.

Samantha Carter's apartment, Colorado Springs

1953 hrs

By contrast, to the more upbeat tone that existed at the Daniels' dinner party, the family meal for the Carters, and Pete, had something of a frosty edge to it. It had begun in the living room when Sam had finally left the safe haven of the kitchen to finally confront her brother Mark. Mark had, cunningly, he thought, taken the seat next to his wife meaning that Sam would be forced to sit next to the still fidgeting Pete.

"Mark, Charlotte, Pete," Sam acknowledged as she stepped into the room.

Desperate to try to dispel the feeling of unease Charlotte stood and wrapped Sam in a warm embrace. Carter returned the hug after a slight hitch of surprise, taking solace in the fact that Charlotte at least seemed oblivious to her husband's plans for the evening.

Breaking the hug Sam smiled at her sister-in-law, "It's good to see you."

"I know," agreed Charlotte, "We hardly ever get to see you. I'm amazed that you were willing to have us all descend on your place for this."

"Well...," tried Sam with a quick glance and raised eyebrow at Mark.

"And to have Jacob able to come too," continued Charlotte, who had caught the look and had decided to ignore for her own peace of mind.

"That was a last minute sort of thing. Dad only became free a couple of days ago and so I didn't have time to inform you about it. I hope he made for a good surprise." That was as close to an apology that Sam was willing to go with regard to her father's appearance at dinner.

From behind Charlotte's shoulder, Sam could see Mark stare at her. Her brother stood and took his wife's place, giving Sam a rather perfunctory hug which left his sister in no doubt that he was still going to go ahead with his plans in spite of their father's arrival at the dinner. Rather than sitting down next to Charlotte once more, Mark turned Sam to face Pete in expectation that she give his friend a hug as well. With a shrug of her shoulders Sam took the now standing Pete in her arms and gave him a quick hug to satisfy her brother. As she did so, she heard Pete whispers in her ear. "I'm sorry about this."

Once the hug ended Sam took in Pete's apologetic face and gave the police officer a tight smile to show she'd accepted the apology, but, despite Mark's manoeuvring, she retreated to the floor to talk to her niece and nephew rather than sit next to Pete. The hug had unsettled her since the few sparks of joy she'd felt, when Pete had held her before they had become engaged, were seemingly missing. Helping her niece colour in her picture Sam sighed in frustration. A large part of her now seemed reconciled to the fact that her relationship with Pete was effectively dead in the water, yet another part of her perversely persisted in keeping the option open for some time longer.

Sam told herself that she was over thinking things again and that she'd stand little chance of enjoying the evening if she dwelt on this topic for any longer. With her mind made up, Sam climbed off the floor and managed to easily lure Charlotte away from the sofa so that they could talk as they wandered back to the kitchen. This left Pete and Mark to watch the kids and have a conversation about baseball.

With a sort of peace brokered the time passed a little more happily for the family and Jacob made sure during dinner that he was seated next to Sam rather than Pete or Mark. Charlotte had observed the musical chairs when it had come time to set down for the meal and had decided to focus on her children rather than be stuck between her husband and the rest of his family. Once dinner and dessert were out of the way, they had all retired to the living room once more.

Sam hung back until her father approached, both of their arms filled with used dishes, and questioned him on his tactics for the evening.

"Just how much beer have you given those two to drink?" she asked of Mark and Pete who had left the dining room with slightly unsteady legs.

"You asked for help in dealing with anything Mark might try tonight to push you to a decision, Sam."

"But getting them drunk, Dad?" she cried as she deposited her load of dishes in the sink.

"Do you really think that in his current state that Mark is in any way able to argue his point of view in regard to your love life?"

Sam had to shake her head at that. "And what does Sel'mak have to say about your choice of weapon for this evening?"

**I've found Jacob to be a very skilled operator. It is not everybody who can use what is at hand to their advantage.**

This, of course, was the moment that the inebriated Pete and Mark had decided to stagger back to the kitchen in search of more beer instead of the promised coffee. Pete had wanted it so he could numb the memory of this evening, given how standoffish Samantha had been, while Mark wanted it to bolster his courage before facing Sam again. Their _little_ argument a month or so ago had dented his confidence when facing his sister somewhat.

"Holy shit!" Mark exclaimed. "Dad's got glowing eyes."

Here Mark turned to Pete, "You meant that bullshit story you told me about my sister kicking alien butt was _true_?"

Sam just couldn't believe it. "Pete? You told Mark what I do for a living!"

"Well," tried Pete, "I hadn't meant to. It just sort of came out."

"That was confidential information, Pete. You could easily go to prison should others know you've been blabbing what you've learnt."

Had he been a little more sober Pete might have heeded the tone of Sam's voice and apologized before ambling back to the living room. Instead, he merely asked if her dad was an alien like the one who'd tried to kill him a year ago.

"My Dad's an alien," mumbled Mark in drunken wonder. "My sister kicks alien butt on a daily basis."

Jacob was glad that the slightly elevated voices in the kitchen hadn't draw Charlotte to investigate. "Deal with the dishes and drinks, Sam. I think I know how to deal with this issue."

At Sam's dumbfounded expression, Jacob flashed her his best smile and taking each younger man by the collars, he dragged them back to the dining room table. Once he'd gotten them seated with a promise to explain everything he returned to the kitchen and fished out Sam's entire supply of beer. His daughter, arms covered in soapy washing water and buried in the sink, took one look at the armful of beer and sighed.

"That's your great plan?"

Jacob shrugged. "If I can get them drunk enough then hopefully they'll write the whole experience off as a hangover."

"Do you think Charlotte will really appreciate having to take home two very drunk, grown men?"

"Then I'll drive the car myself and stay the night on the couch at the motel." He walked to the kitchen exit, paused, and turned back to Sam. "At least we can say that tonight was a success."

"Success, Dad?"

"Mark certainly isn't going to be in any shape to try and convince you of anything."


	11. It's Good to Be Queen

THANKS: A big thank you to Karen Joy who worked hard as my Beta on this chapter. Callie Sullivan's transcripts of the series

NOTE: \...\ denotes radio

xxx

**ELEVEN: It's Good to Be Queen**

SGC

January 6th, 2005

1427 hrs

The Carter Christmas dinner on the twenty-fourth of December hadn't lasted much longer after Jacob had helped the two younger men become completely drunk and pass out. Charlotte hadn't been terribly amused by Sam's hesitant revelation that her husband and his friend were lying, out to the world, on chairs at the table in the dining room. With Jacob and her doing most of the legwork, the two men were bundled into the rental car and driven to the motel by Jacob. After a lengthy effort to get the pair back out of the car and on to a bed and sofa respectively, Jacob left the snoring men and returned to Sam's apartment.

As it was now well past nine in the evening, Charlotte didn't hang around for much longer, marshalling her sleepy kids into the car and away to the motel where she would look after the two inebriated gentlemen. When his daughter-in-law was gone, Jacob had just turned to Samantha with a huge smile, "I consider that to be a victory."

"And if Mark recalls meeting Sel'mak?" Sam asked with a raised eyebrow. Her father looked quite satisfied with his hand in cutting off any chance of a full-blown Carter family row.

**Then I will simply have to return and smite his puny self from the face of the planet!**

With that Sel'mak proved to not only have a sense of humour, but also an acting bone somewhere in her snakelike body.

The following day Sam had accompanied her father back to the SGC in the early morning after an simple exchange of gifts at her apartment, and shortly after her father had taken his leave, and departed via the stargate, Teal'c returned from Chulak to spend Christmas Day with Daniel, Cassandra, and herself. The intimate gathering was held at Daniel's apartment where he and Cassie, who'd spent the night there to give Sam time with her family, had invested considerable effort in preparing a lunch that would satisfy both their appetites and that of Teal'c's.

Christmas Day had been an enjoyable experience, Sam able to put away her nerves over anything to do with Mark and Pete and simply enjoy being with those she loved like a family. However, going unspoken that day was the continued absence of General Jack O'Neill and the question of his current whereabouts. All four were silently hoping and desperately wishing that wherever Jack was, he wasn't facing mortal peril.

Mark had sufficiently recovered before New Years to spend further time with his sister and made no attempt to broach the subject of Sam's engagement to Pete. For her part Sam wasn't sure whether this was because he subconsciously recalled meeting Sel'mak, conversation with Mark indicating to Sam that her brother recalled very little of the evening, or because Charlotte had called him to the mat Christmas morning and read him the riot act about his behaviour. A fight with his sister while trying to apologise for getting drunk wouldn't put him back in Charlotte's good books.

The remaining time spent with Mark and his family, before they returned home in the first week of January, was a lot calmer and happily stress free for Sam. Pete had dropped by Sam's apartment the day after Boxing Day to make his own apologies, reiterate his commitment to give her space, and then shuffle back to Denver. With Pete gone, and Charlotte's ire still fresh in his mind, Mark focussed on getting to know his sister better. It had been apparent to Mark from how comfortable she had been around her father that he had been removed from his family for too long.

Once here family had all departed in the New Year, Sam reported for duty at the SGC in order to find out just what General Landry had planned for the team while Captain O'Neill remained on medical leave to recover from Ba'al and the sarcophagus abuse. She was somewhat dismayed to find that he'd scheduled soft tasks for the three of them: Teal'c teaching hand-to-hand combat, Daniel translating some recent finds, and herself helping the other scientists with a few new alien knickknacks.

At the same time the three were well aware that the _Prometheus_ was gearing up for a trip to the Pegasus galaxy in search of the missing Atlantis expedition from whom nothing had been heard since they'd stepped through the gate the previous year. The mission was once again the topic of discussion for Daniel and Sam the morning of the twelfth of January.

"So what's the word?" asked Daniel as he joined Sam in the corridors of Level 28 at the SGC.

"Well, the test flights were successful. The new Asgaard hyperdrive is ready to go."

"Well, when are they leaving?"

"They're stocking the ship and picking the crew right now," answered Sam as Daniel looked away awkwardly and made a noise as if clearing his throat. "You really wanna go, don't you?"

"It's Atlantis! It's everything we've been working for for seven and a half years. But—"

"But?" The pair had come to a halt outside one of the many elevators dotted about the level.

"But I want to find Jack."

Sam nodded in understanding and patted Daniel on the shoulder in a show of solidarity. That was the same reason as to why she hadn't been pestering General Landry for a place on the mission. Daniel stepped into the lift and pressed the relevant floor button.

"You'll get another chance, Daniel."

Sighing, Daniel nodded and stared at his feet as the lift doors slid shut and the elevator began to move. Sam was just turning away from the grey steel doors when Harriman's voice could be heard over the tanoy, "Unscheduled off world activation."

With a fast clip Sam hurried in the direction of the control room as Landry came down the stairs from the briefing room, both arriving in time to watch the gate activate.

Evergreen Cemetery, Colorado Springs

January 24th, 2005

1124 hrs

In many ways it had been a magical month, despite what had precipitated it. Jac felt even more in tune with herself than she had before and figured, despite how prepared she had considered herself back in November, that the additional time she'd spent with Sara in Boston simply being a woman had been to her benefit. In some cases perhaps a little too much. The extremely embarrassing conversation that Sara had had with her after the Christmas dinner, dealing with the topic of interacting with the opposite sex had made her feel like she was thirteen all over again. She'd flashed back to the conversation her adoptive father had given her on the birds and bees.

Still, mortifying conversations aside, Boston had been good to her and for her. She had needed Sara's assistance in the art of letting a man down gently when William Quigley had decided to play the part of a gentleman caller and shortly after New Years turned up to invite her out to a Tennessee Williams play being put on. That request had stirred her long untouched artistic side, playing Jack hadn't meant too many visits to live theatre, and she had been about to accept when Sara had drawn her aside and reminded her of the end goal that William most likely had in mind.

Christmas Day has passed in a blissed out experience of hot chocolate, presents, and far too much rich food. To top it all off the married couple had retired early leaving Jac to enjoy a piping hot bath, and then a night on the couch with more chocolate and _It's a Wonderful Life_. The week between Christmas and New Years taught Jac one very important thing: her new body found chocolate _very_ addictive. But then if given a list of all the addictions she could still have, such as smoking or using the sarcophagus, chocolate would be the one she'd not try and wean herself from.

Early January also meant that 'Jack's' house in Colorado Springs became hers and all the things that she had decided to keep, which had all this time been in storage, could be unpacked. She had a house of her own once more and it was time to get settled. Very kindly, since they were giving up some of their own holiday time, Sara and Michael had journeyed with her to Colorado Springs in order to help unpack and arrange her 'new' house to her satisfaction. It was a really weird sensation to have the place newly organised, since much of her taste in decor and art had changed. The weirdness came out of the little things she noticed, small touches that clearly said the owner of the house was female and not male.

Once that objective had been achieved and the bulk of Jac's new feminine wardrobe had been sorted and put away in the right places, another small moment of weirdness to see her closet filled with dresses rather than suits, the couple and young woman returned to Boston. Michael was due at work the following day, where Sara and Jac subsequently learnt the poor man had been pestered by William Quigley for details about Jac, and Sara had plans for her 'niece' that involved planning a nursery for the coming baby.

So the break had been good for her, the crippling need for a sarcophagus nothing more than another unpleasant memory and her night terrors had receded into the darkness from whence they had come. Other than William's slight inability to understand that she wasn't interested in a relationship just yet, Jac knew she would look back fondly on this time and treasure the new relationship she had with her ex-wife Sara.

But all good times had to come to and end and the time for Jac's return to the SGC had drawn near. With a heartfelt thank you to Michael for his support and sacrifice, Jac had once more made the trip to Colorado Springs, this time in the company solely of Sara. With all of her things dumped in her home, the pair stuck to their plan and headed to the cemetery where Charlie had been interred, planning to have a good-bye lunch afterwards.

In the rental car Jac was using till she purchased a new vehicle of her own, Jack's truck having been sold, the pair had made their way in silence from Jac's place to the cemetery, and they continued on in silence to Charlie's grave. They had expected quiet for each of them to pay their respects, but were surprised to find a young man already at the gravesite talking quietly to the grave as he stood in front of it. Like Sara, Jac initially assumed from all she saw of the man, which was his back, that he was an old school friend of Charlie's. It wasn't till the two women drew up to the grave and the man turned to see who had arrived that Jac realised that she had come face to face with her clone.

"Uh... hi," remarked Jon, awkwardly recognising the older woman as his ex-wife.

"Hello," managed Sara. "Are you a friend of Charlie's from school? I'm sorry I can't remember your name."

"It's Jon," supplied Jac, unable to wrench her gaze from the clone who stood opposite her. Despite things being on the up, Jac couldn't help but feel a little envious that Jon would get to grow up without all of Jack's mistakes _and_ remain male. It was like the universe was thumbing its nose at her.

"Jon? I don't recall Charlie having a playmate named Jon. Are you sure, Jacqueline?" Sara had picked up on the slightly alarmed face that Jac was making and had used her full name in order to gain the younger woman's attention.

It worked because Jac scowled and threw an aggrieved glance at Sara, the woman in question making a pushing motion with her hands that let Jac understand the Sara knew there was more to this Jon than either was saying and that perhaps they should take it away from the grave.

With a nod to Sara, Jac turned her attention back to Jon and with a sweep of her hand gestured to a seat not far away. "Perhaps we should give Charlie's mom a little private time with her son?"

With a cool gaze Jon nodded and led the way to the seat where instead of sitting he simply stopped, jammed his hands into his jean pockets, and stared off into the distance. Jac had a good idea what the clone was thinking about and let the boy be, moving to the seat instead and sitting down. Wearing a skirt had by now come pretty naturally to Jac, even if she wasn't hugely in favour of them given how impractical they could be, and she quietly smoothed out the wrinkles while she waited for Jon to talk. As she did she let a small grin grace her face recalling Sara's argument that Jac wear a dress to Charlie's grave as it was a formal occasion and jeans just wouldn't do. The living proof that Jac would have done just that otherwise stood only a few feet away.

"How did you know my name?" Jon eventually asked, turning to look at the young woman seated on the bench.

"I'm afraid that's classified information," she smirked.

Jon's gaze hardened. "Navy?"

"Air Force."

"Based where?" came the next question.

"Here in Colorado Springs. I believe you know my commanding officer, Lt. Colonel Samantha Carter."

Some sort of understanding dawned on Jon's face. "You're the impostor pretending to be my niece!"

Jac took in the finger jabbed in front of her face and reaching up a delicate hand gently pushed the offending digit away. "I am indeed, and before you ask — Sara is well aware I'm not your biological niece."

That seemed to take all the fight out of Jon. "Another cover up then?"

Patting the space on the bench next to her in the way she'd often observed women do, not quite an order but also not an either/or, 'if you want to' kind of suggestion. Jon sat down and ran a hand through his hair.

"I am simply another problem that the US government has decided is easier to sweep under the rug rather than tackle and deal with head on," announced Jac.

"Goody," agreed Jon. "I take it that being part of SG-1 this means you know _exactly _who I am?"

"Indeed."

"I see you've been hanging out with T already. Look, I don't know you and since this is my farewell to Charlie today, I'm not likely to ever do so. But—"

"Keep an eye on the kids?"

Jon nodded, "Couldn't have put it better myself. Sure we're not really related, 'cause this is a good act you've got going on?"

"Sara's been a good teacher."

Laughing slightly, Jon shook his head and played with his hair again. "Bet it all came as a surprise to her."

"I guess. She seemed to take it all in her stride, not even the gate fazed her, which is better than how some people have reacted when they've been told." Jac winced and added, "Or so I've been told."

"And you, how did you react when you learnt the truth?"

"I think I was too busy worrying about rescuing SG-1 to think about it at the time."

Standing once more Jon brushed his jeans off and turned on the still seated woman. "So what happened, Jacqueline?"

"Jac, thanks."

"Jac." Jon nodded for her to answer the question asked.

"Well, the SGC was under the impression that SG-1 had been captured by—"

"No," said Jon firmly, cutting across Jac's answer, "I mean what happened to you _Jonathan_?"

"Oh." There was a long pause as Jac realised that Jon had puzzled her existence out. "What gave me away?"

"Nothing specific," admitted Jon. "If I hadn't been me, you... ah, Jack... ah, for crying out loud!"

Jac giggled and held her hand to her mouth in order to stifle it. Jon gave her a weird look and backed off slightly.

"Jon?"

"Hearing me giggle after ordering Carter not to do so for so many years kinda gives me the heebie jeebies."

"Oh. Still, you were saying...?"

"Ah, yeah. If I hadn't been Jack then I don't think I would have noticed myself. This little transformation I take it is the secret being swept under the rug?"

Jac nodded.

"And SG-1 don't get to know?"

Again Jac nodded, a little more forlornly this time, her gaze on the ground at her feet.

"Well that sucks," Jon spat, Jac agreeing with him. Then he added after a pause, "This is bloody freaky."

"Freaky?"

"This. You. Me. Us."

"I see you're aiming for the Jack O'Neill school of eloquence."

The younger man shrugged. "And yourself?"

Jac fidgeted. "Hammond got to see our file, the _whole_ file. I'm supposed to be going off world as one of the 'geeks'."

That had Jon laughing. "Has Carter picked your brains yet?"

"Not yet," laughed Jac in companionship. "I'll give her a day or two into our first proper mission for that. She'll pin me down when I'm off world and can't escape her questions."

"Can you live with yourself this way?" was Jon's next incisive question.

"Can you?"

"Live with the idea that version another of me is going to spend the rest of their life as a woman?" He frowned. "Can't say I know till I try."

"I meant, can you live with yourself as _you_ are?"

"If you can make a go of being a woman, then getting through High School for a second time must be a piece of cake surely."

Well, thought Jac, at least Jon agrees with me that I got the weird end of the stick when it came to new starts. There was long pause as the pair studied every part of the cemetery other than each other, both spending a lot of that time observing Sara some distance away as she crouched next to Charlie's grave.

"Think the universe has it in for us?"

"Of course," agreed Jac. "After all, look how little time we ever got to go fishing."

With a sign Jon and a glance at his watch Jon then said, "Look, I have to go. This is the last time I'm going to be in these parts for quite some time, so you don't have to worry about me spilling the beans, okay."

"I trust me."

"That just sounds wrong," groaned Jon as Jac stood.

For a moment it seemed as if the world had come to a halt, silence overtaking the cemetery as the two incarnations of the man once known as Jack O'Neill looked into each other's eyes. Then the moment was gone and Jon was walking away, his loping gait carrying his beyond Jac's view. She looked after him, watching where he had disappeared among the headstones, till she felt Sara's hand creep into her own.

"Who was he really?"

"A little dream of me," answered Jac sadly as she squeezed Sara's hand for support and got a squeeze of reassurance in return.

"Go on, Jac. It's your turn to say 'Happy Birthday' to Charlie."

SGC

February 2nd, 2005

0736 hrs

Jac had to admit to some small amount of nervousness at returning to the SGC. She had effectively been back on duty for the past eight days, Dr. Brightman having given her the all clear, and a sympathetic hug, upon her return with Sara, but General Landry hadn't jumped straight in with a mission for SG-1. From what Brightman had told her, the rest of SG-1 hadn't had the quiet January that she had. Other than overheard snatches of conversation about Replicators and the _Prometheus_, Jac was still in the dark as to just what Sam, Daniel, and Teal'c had been up to while she had been gone. Pondering what _had_ happened worked well enough to block out the vision she'd had while sorting out her new desk space.

That enforced inactivity was about to change, since Landry had summoned her to the briefing room. Meeting up with Teal'c along the way, she took a seat. Colonel Carter and Landry were already there and it was not long before Daniel came scurrying into the room apologising about being late. Since this was something of a regular occurrence nobody made a comment on it. Once everybody was settled Carter launched straight into the current problem.

"The war between Ba'al and the System Lords has reached a critical stage. According to Tok'Ra intelligence, Bastet and Olukun are dead, Morrigan has capitulated, and Lord Yu and Amateratsu are rallying their armies for what will probably be their last stand."

Jac couldn't give two figs about Ba'al and how well he was doing, except to ponder if it had anything to do with the Ancient prison that he had been searching for. Perhaps he had found something he himself _could_ use and it was proving a formidable weapon when turned on his fellow System Lords.

"As we predicted, the Jaf'fa were no match for the Kull warriors," said Teal'c chipping in.

Or it could be something as simple as that, Jac corrected herself mentally.

Nodding, Carter added, "The Tok'Ra also thought we should know, in the face of imminent defeat, some of the System Lords are actively seeking out areas of refuge. Planets they abandoned long ago are now being scouted as possible sanctuaries."

"The effect of which is?" queries Landry, wanting to get to the point of the meeting that Colonel Carter had called.

Here Daniel took up the baton, which indicated that at least he and Carter had talked about the content of this meeting before asking for it to be arranged, "One of these planets, which used to fall under the domain of the System Lord Ares, also happens to be the place where the Tok'Ra dropped off one Harry Maybourne two years ago."

Landry recalled the various reports about the _activities_ of the ex-Air Force Colonel and had to wonder why Carter and Jackson thought the survival of such a traitor merited any action on his part. After the debacle with the Replicator-form Carter and Jackson's encounter with the hijacker Vala, _all_ of which was caught on security tape, Landry had hardly let the on duty but not active three-quarters of SG-1 near the gate. He gave the people sat at the table a flat stare.

"Sir, the Tok'Ra have their hands full with more pressing matters. They strongly suggest we get to Maybourne before the Goa'uld do."

There it was, thought Landry. Between the pair of them Daniel and Sam were obviously going stir crazy being unable to travel off world. Landry had promised after Christmas to let them return to missions, even though their new member Captain O'Neill was still off duty in Boston, only to change his mind after that first week in January. The pair were taking the soft option to persuading him to let them resume gate travel by suggesting an easy mission that he couldn't possibly turn down. They probably believed that having Captain O'Neill back aided them in their cause, thinking he'd be happy with such a simple mission for O'Neill's first trip through the gate since her escape from Ba'al.

Teal'c pressed the team's point when Landry hadn't responded to Carter's comment about retrieving Maybourne before Ares did. "If we do not retrieve him, Harry Maybourne faces certain capture."

Hank swung his gaze to take in Captain O'Neill, quickly surmising from her face that she was the _only_ member of SG-1 who hadn't come to this meeting prepared to argue their case. Still, he wasn't a petty man.

"You have a 'go', Colonel," Landry finally said, ignoring the huge smiles blossoming on the faces of Carter and Jackson. Teal'c merely did that eyebrow thing, though Hank did wonder if he'd caught a slight curling of the larger man's lips.

"Yes, Sir," replied Carter with more enthusiasm than she normally would for something dealing with Maybourne.

P9X-045

0812 hrs

Jac stood on the raise platform that the stargate was a part of, listening to the sound of the wormhole disengaging behind her with a slight rush of wind. The other three members of the team were already moving away from the platform and discussing the planet as Jac took a deep breath and made her way down the steps.

"According to the Tok'Ra, the people of this world are fairly primitive," Carter was saying.

"No phones, no lights, no motorcars," continued Daniel. Jac had to wonder at the double act and how quickly it had developed once Jack had stopped going off world with SG-1. However it had started, they didn't yet feel the need to rope her into the conversation. "I bet you Maybourne just jumps at the chance to leave."

Maybourne. Jac shook her head slightly at the thought. This was going to be one really weird meeting since Harry would have no idea who she once was. Teal'c had meanwhile asked about the local population.

"We'll relocate them. We may not have a lot of time — Ares could be here in a matter of days."

Colonel Carter didn't get to expound any further on her probably brilliant plan for the evacuation of the plan as the team were quickly covered by a larger group of people all bearing weapons of a decidedly medieval bent. The team's attempts to make themselves appear friendly failed and they were soon herded as a group towards a sizeable village. Jac wondered why Daniel bothered to explain that they came in peace whenever they visited a planet since the weapons they carried always suggested otherwise and the villagers on _every_ planet were always so damn suspicious. Except those who welcomed them with open arms — they usually had a skeleton or two in the cupboard.

Eventually SG-1 were brought to a standstill in what appeared to be akin to a throne room, though not particularly extravagantly decorated. But that wasn't what commanded the attention of the team. What did was Harry Maybourne sitting on what was presumably the throne, being feed some kind of fruit by a woman of about Jac's age. Her eyes narrowed at the idea of a playboy Harry.

"Maybourne!" Carter managed in surprise.

Jac rolled her eyes, thinking such a reaction amusing since Harry was the one they were looking for. She hadn't thought him to make King, but had expected him to at least be doing well for himself. After all, he had a few hundred years of technological progress on the rest of the natives.

The woman leading the hunting party, Gerran as members of the same party had called her, announced their arrival, "This is King Arkhan. My Lord, our hunting party encountered these offworlders by the Gate."

Despite being intrigued by SG-1 sporting a new, young, good-looking woman as part of the team and not Jack, Harry stood and approached with a chuckle. "Hey, guys! Long time no see!"

Jac snorted and rolled her eyes again, Harry was showing off. She had to wonder if Colonel Carter would let her get away with simply shooting the smug man in the leg and dragging him back through the gate. The once over he'd given her had _nothing_ to do with the formation of that sentiment _whatsoever_, she told herself.

"I should have known," Harry carried on blithely. "I should have known you'd be the ones to come."

"You were expecting us?"

Thank you, Daniel, for asking the obvious, thought Jac.

"Well, sort of. Where's Jack?"

"General O'Neill's _apparently _in Washington," answered Carter.

"No kidding. _General_ O'Neill?" Harry made a face at the idea and Jac chalked it up to simple jealousy. "That doesn't sound right. Still, good for Jack. Nice to hear he's doing so well for himself."

"As, evidently, are you," observed the Jaf'fa member of the team.

Harry casually brushed off the reference to his exalted position and threw his gaze to Jac. "And who do we have here?"

"Captain O'Neill," Jac stated crisply.

"O'Neill?" remarked Maybourne in surprise. "Any relation?"

"I'm his niece, so don't get any funny ideas or I'll—"

"Right," Harry said, ending her threat there before his subjects could hear or the feisty young Captain could follow through on her words. "Food, drinks for our guests!"

The conversation that followed was hardly edifying for the team, although they did learn that Maybourne was already aware of the coming Goa'uld invasion and had done seemingly nothing about it to protect the people he was now king of. When Harry had started talking about prophecies Jac had gotten itchy feet, so much so that Carter noticed and sent he to walk the perimeter of the village to work off her nervous energy. It worked, and when she returned Carter and Teal'c joined her. The two joined her at the table to partake of some of the food still on offer. Jac had found the newly christened 'quangos' quite delicious and had recommended them to her female teammate.

As Sam pecked at the fruit, Jac asked her just what it was that she and Teal'c had been up to in January that had Landry almost ready to tie SG-1 to their desks for a little bit longer.

"We encountered a new human-form replicator," Teal'c said carefully.

Jac cocked her head. "Really? What did it look like?"

This produced a blush _and_ a frown from the team leader. "It... ah, looked like me."

"Ma'am?"

Taking a breath, Sam plunged on, "Fifth, since we last saw him, had created a human-form replicator in my image. In fact, more than just my image. She had everything that makes me, me. All of my memories were in that _thing_."

Jac carefully noted the anger in that last word. "It take it from your tone that things didn't go our way."

"Indeed." Teal'c took up the mantle and explained how they had first been contacted by the replicator and how Landry had grudgingly given them the go ahead to work through the claims it made off world.

"So _why_ did you trust it?"

It was a simple question. Carter had taken to staring at the tabletop and Jac didn't quite like what that meant. She certainly hoped that the Lt. Colonel wasn't beginning to second-guess her leadership abilities.

"Well, she was me," offered Sam.

Jac nodded. She'd made the same decision when she'd trusted Jon to never breath a word of her true identity to anyone. But then, Jon wasn't a homicidal, alien, self-replicating robot that was bent on wiping out any threat to its continued existence. At that point Daniel interrupted them on the radio.

"Go ahead," replied Sam to Daniel's call.

\Maybourne was right.\

"What do you mean?"

\Well, from what I've been able to decipher, it's pretty clear. The script on these walls is a historical log compiled by an Ancient who travelled through time to study the evolution of life on this world.\

Carter was a little frustrated, "Daniel, we know the Ancients experimented with time travel, but we have no evidence that they actually mastered it."

\Yeah, well, we do now. You see, to the best of my knowledge, these writings are only a couple of hundred years old, which means they were carved after the Goa'uld had already left.\

Now Sam was frowning as she wrapped her head around that concept. "But the Ancients predate the Goa'uld."

\Right, so the only logical explanation is that an Ancient travelled to the future and then back to a time not too long ago.\

Carter expressed doubts.

\There are references to the time travel device itself. Now, it's described as being inside a small ship. Now if I'm right, it may still be here. I think it's worth a look.\

"All right. We're on our way."

xxx

The net result of the conversation was that they split up in order to search for the Ancient time ship that Daniel was sure was probably still in the area. Carter had tasked Jac to work with Daniel and she had taken the time to ask Daniel about the truth behind the rumours about the _Prometheus_ 'incident'.

"I didn't have much choice in going," explained Daniel as they thrashed through the bush.

"I understood that Atlantis was somewhere you were keen to go?"

"True," agreed Daniel, "but till we've located your 'Uncle' I'm not going anywhere."

That had brought Jac up short. The idea that Daniel, and possibly the rest of SG-1, were putting their lives and ambitions on hold till her old self had been found was disturbing. Jac made a mental note to contact General Hammond and see if SG-1 could be told the truth. Daniel had gone on to explain the whole Kull warrior ruse and his encounter with Vala Mal Doran, who had attempted to make off with the _Prometheus_. Before Jac could ask the archaeologist to confirm or deny the rumours that he'd kissed the female thief, something apparently caught on the security tapes now doing the rounds of the base, she was prevented by the click of the radio.

\Daniel?\ came Carter's voice.

"Go ahead."

\We've been at it a while. Are you sure it's around here?\

"Just give it a little more time."

\I hate to say it, Daniel, but we can't risk staying much longer.\

Not long after the Colonel had decided to call the search to an end. Which naturally was the moment when Teal'c was heard over the radio explaining that he'd found 'something'. The four assembled outside the ship that Teal'c had discovered, Jac running her hand along the metal skin of the outside while Sam worked on gaining access to the ship. Jac didn't bother explaining to the rest of the team the sensation she got from touching the ship, feeling it 'sing' much in the way something metal would when struck. It was the same sensation she had gotten from sitting in the chair at the Ancient outpost in Antarctica.

By the time she managed a circuit of the machine the others had managed to get the door open. As the team carefully moved into the interior, lights began to come on by themselves as if in welcome. Daniel paused to investigate a large object that took up much of the back part of the ship as Sam and Jac moved forward to what appear very much like the pilot's area.

"It certainly looks like a ship," said Carter.

"These appear to be flight controls," added Jac. "Do you think it needs two pilots or just the one?"

"One, O'Neill," intoned Teal'c. "There is only one set of controls for piloting the ship."

Jac looked to where the Jaf'fa gestured, at two things that sprouted from the controls. Nodding in agreement Jac sized up the rest of the array.

"This must be an onboard DHD," mused Jac as she lightly fingered the triangular console in the middle. She traced her index finger across the seven symbols required to dial home. "Cool."

"Indeed," agreed Teal'c with an amused smile. Even if this young woman wasn't really related to her 'Uncle', at least she acted as if she was.

Carter meanwhile had shuffled to the back of the craft to discuss the large object at the rear, and to prevent the eager archaeologist from touching something and accidentally setting the device off.

Eventually the conversation reached the point where Daniel asked, "Okay, so what do we do?"

Carter took a moment to size up the craft, watching as Captain O'Neill slipped into the seat on the left and prod the two handle-like objects. "We'll bring it back. Judging by the dimensions, it looks like it was actually designed to fit through the gate."

"Okay, how do we get it there?"

"This vessel appears to be relatively undamaged. The engine may yet be functional," answered Teal'c stepping back from the front deck to join Daniel and Sam.

"This is Ancient technology," said Carter thinking the problem through. "We'd need an Ancient to make it work."

"Or someone close," he bounced back, recalling the file on Captain O'Neill that Sam had shown him shortly after having O'Neill added to the team. Dr. Brightman's notation on the presence and strength of the Captain's ATA gene had stood out boldly.

Sam smiled at Daniel knowing what he referred to and the pair turned to the Captain who was still seated at the front console, and appeared to possibly be making air plane-type noises as she hefted the sticks to the left and right.

"Want to give it a go, Captain?" asked Carter with slick grin as she came up behind Jac.

Jac gave a start at the Colonel's voice, having drifted off a little trying to picture what the ship would handle like in flight. She just hoped that the rest of SG-1 hadn't heard the sound effects she had been making.

"Ma'am?"

"We've decided that we should get this thing back to the SGC before Ares turns up," summarised Carter.

"And you want me to fly it, Ma'am?"

Carter nodded, which Jac took as a 'go' and rested her hands on the console in front of her. Sam quickly pulled the Captain's hands away and explained that the object in the back part of the ship, which she suspected to be the time travel component, was still hooked into the guidance system.

"Give me a chance to separate it before we go trying to get this thing flying."

"Can I lend a hand?"

Sam had a wide-eyed look on her face to begin with, till she recalled why she had asked for the Captain in the first place and nodded in pleased acceptance. The two women returned to the drive and the two male members of their team who were standing over it while apparently discussing how Christmas had gone. Carter sent the pair back to the village to see if Maybourne was holding out on knowing anything more, as well as trying to convince him and his people to evacuate through the gate before Ares arrived.

The Colonel and the Captain worked the next while in relative quiet, only breaking it occasionally to confer on something or request an opinion or help on a decision to be made. With the two of them at work on the ship they believed that they had disconnected the time device and prepped the ship for launch long before Daniel and Teal'c were due back from the village.

Taking the two front seats Jac readied herself in the pilot's chair and handled the controls.

"Unfortunately I can't help you with this one, Captain, you're on your own."

"Ma'am."

Jac looked at the console for a moment or two and tried to reach back into her mind for that 'singing' vibration that had formed much of her experience in using the chair in Antarctica. Carter watched as the younger woman's eyes drifted shut and a few seconds later the console flickered into life and a small hum filled the cabin.

xxx

Teal'c and Daniel had reached the village by this point and had unsuccessfully tried to convince Maybourne to encourage the local populace to evacuate through the stargate. The ex-Air Force Colonel simply fudged and delayed when the issue was raised, the two SG-1 members eventually giving up and retreating to a table for a break.

"Stubborn old man," muttered Daniel as he cast an evil look in the direction of the retreating Maybourne.

"He does firmly believe in this prophecy," remarked Teal'c.

"That may be, but should he really be putting that much stock in a prophecy. In all of our travelling off world we've not come across the phenomenon really."

"Indeed, but is the prophecy that Maybourne holds to not truly a prophecy in the end. It is not after all simply a record of events that have not yet happened. The Ancients appear to highly value accuracy in all things."

Daniel tapped at the tabletop as he considered the Jaf'fa's point of view. Eventually he was forced to nod his head, but added, "Yet for an _accurate_ record it is annoyingly vague on detail. It may be true that Ares is sent packing, but the prophecy gives us no clue on what lives may be lost or injuries incurred in the process of getting the Goa'uld to leave."

Teal'c picked at one of the fruits that Maybourne had recommend on their arrival and cautiously took a few bites. Sensing the end of that conversation topic, Daniel turned to one that had been at the back of his mind for some days now.

"How do you think Sam's relationship with Pete is going?" he asked Teal'c bluntly, effectively picking up on a topic of conversation that had ebbed and flowed between the two of them ever since Sam had first announced she was dating the police officer roughly a year ago.

"It flounders," intoned Teal'c with his usual gravity. "Her description of the Carter family dinner was most ominous in that direction."

"Teal'c?"

"She used JacobCarter's participation as a shield to deflect her from any unwanted pressure on the subject of her relationship."

"That was my advice to her," cautioned Daniel as he played with his glasses. Teal'c's interpretation of his observations was sounding a little like a battle strategy.

"That does not turn it into a manoeuvre other than avoidance," argued the bigger man. "Despite the opportunity to sort things out for the future and one time only, ColonelCarter resorted to her usual tactic of delay and avoid she employs for things she does not wish to deal with. This is a not method that she can keep up indefinitely. PeteShanahan will eventually press her for an answer."

Daniel rubbed tiredly at his eyes. It was not even lunchtime and he was already feeling a deep lethargy in his bones. This extended silence about Jack was wearing him thin with worry. His nightmares about the whereabouts of Jack had not truly abated and the episode with the Ancient device had simply compounded the sleep deprivation. Jack needed to found and soon, other he'd would simply collapse where he was standing one day, and Sam would play 'keep away' one time too many and end up in a situation she wouldn't been able to walk away from.

"So," Daniel said eventually, "what do you think that answer will be?"

Any answer Teal'c might have given went unsaid as the pair found themselves facing the business end of various crossbows and other assorted weaponry. Gerran waved her crossbow particularly close to Daniel's nose, angrily telling the two men to, "Surrender your weapons, or die where you stand."

"May we ask why we are being treated like this?" Daniel's default setting was always to try and talk his way out of something.

"Lower your weapons."

"That is not possible," replied Teal'c, standing and taking an aggressive stance.

"We will not allow you to take King Arkhan from us."

"KingArkhan is not what he appears."

"Our king is wise. He is a seer," shouted one of the villagers to counter Teal'c's accusation.

"He may be your king, but he is a false seer." _That_ proclamation didn't sit well with the assembled and angry villagers.

Daniel was busy waving his hands in agitation, trying to attract attention to himself so that he might have the opportunity to defuse the rapidly escalating situation. It worked as Gerran turned to look at him.

"He can only interpret what's been written on the pillars of the temple ruins not far from here. Now, those writings hold the prophecies, and anyone who can read them can make the same predictions."

"That is a lie," she hissed in response to what Daniel had thought was a reasoned appeal.

"Why don't we let King Arkhan explain everything?"

xxx

Jac wasn't quite what she was doing, but that wasn't a novel experience for her. Colonel Carter and herself had managed to do a patch job on the systems to isolate what they had assumed was the time mechanism from the central control system, as well as bypassing an error in the power distribution that would have prevented the ship from flying. Now they were seated at the front of the ship, all systems seemingly a go. Using the chair in Antarctica had simply been a matter of trying something and seeing what happened till she had the hang of things.

Hoping the ship operated in much the same manner as the chair, Jac let her mind be drawn into the sensations the ship was giving out till she could almost feel her blood 'singing' in tune with the ship. That accomplished she let her eyes slowly crack open till she was looking out through the clear window.

"Captain?"

"Ma'am. Just give me a minute or two. I think I've got control of the ship now."

In response to her first attempt at a command the lowered platform that made up the rear end of the ship pulled up and into place, sealing the ship tight.

"So far so good," muttered Jac as she pondered what she wanted next. Flying this thing blind wasn't the best of options. She needed more data.

This thought pattern resulted in a Heads Up Display becoming visible, as if projected against the clear window.

"This is some sort of HUD," Carter stated out loud a she leant forward in her seat in order to try and make sense of what she was seeing. Several bursts of information appeared, all written in the language of the Ancients. "I knew I should have let Daniel talk me into attending his Ancient 101 lecture he had a few months ago."

Letting go one of the 'handles' in front of her Jac pointed with her right hand at the various parts of the display. "This is a chronometer, with an environmental scan next to it. The rest is given over to a topographical display of the surrounding countryside, Ma'am."

"I'm impressed, Captain," grinned Sam. "I think we'll keep you on."

"Yes, Ma'am." Jac returned the grin and on a gut level knew that despite her fears, working with SG-1 again might just have a chance of working.

"I wasn't aware you knew Ancient. That wasn't in your file."

"No, Ma'am. But I did have some downtime before I was scheduled to begin duty and before I ended up off world. I used that time to learn what I could of the main tongues the SGC has encountered off world." That's another bold-faced lie you've told to keep this illusion going, Jac. How many more are you going to tell between now and the day you die? thought Jac.

"So you know a little bit more than some Ancient then?" asked Sam.

Jac didn't want to sound like she was bragging to her superior office, and so restrained herself to a simple nod of the head.

"Modest too, huh?" giggled Sam lightly. "Let me take a guess. From what Landry has told me of his ongoing talks with L'masee, I expect that you have a good grasp of the modern Goa'uld dialect."

Jac nodded again. "I have a good grasp of languages. Nothing as good as Doctor Jackson though."

xxx

Maybourne had managed to call off Gerran and to organise a meeting at which he would reluctantly attempt to encourage the villagers to travel through the gate before Ares arrived.

"Well, here goes nothing," Harry muttered to Daniel before he turned to the assembled people and spoke in a louder, more pronounced voice. "My friends. I wish I were here under better circumstances but the fact is, I come before you all to deliver a warning. The village is in danger, and the time has come for us to leave."

This wasn't going down well with the villagers, but a 'carry on' gesture from Daniel kept Maybourne pressing on. "We must abandon our world. Arrangements are being made to help us... temporarily relocate to a safe place."

"But the prophecy was clear. The enemy will be defeated," shouted one of the men at the back of the group.

"Ah, yes, uh, the prophecy was clear, but only up to a certain point. After that it was somewhat, uh, unclear — uh, sort of, uh, murky clarity."

Maybourne kept going, hoping that through sheer force of words that the villagers would do as recommended. "Of course the enemy will be defeated, but there is a chance that some of us may get hurt or even killed in the process, and I am not willing to..."

"Impossible! You assured us we would be safe!" Another villager had spoken out.

From that point the situation fell apart till Gerran eventually stirred them into staying. Even Maybourne's confession that he wasn't a seer had no effect. He'd done such a good job of improving the standards of the villagers' lives that any idea of dropping him as king had been dismissed and had reinforced their belief in the prophecy. Daniel had attempted to step in and try and convince the people himself, but soon found he was wasting his breath. They were holding to the prophecy and would not be going anywhere any time soon.

Daniel contacted Sam via his radio and informed her of the decision that had been made.

\Understood, Daniel. Is Maybourne returning with us?\

"If he is he hasn't said word of it to either Teal'c or myself."

\Find out will you? If Ares is due shortly then I want us off this planet before he shows up. We can't have this Ancient ship falling into his hands.\

"You've got it working then? I thought it would have taken longer."

\Ah, but I've had Captain O'Neill helping me. Two brains are better than one, Daniel. Plus, there is the bonus in that she is nothing like McKay. We've not had one heated argument yet.\

"Right."

\Look, just find out if Maybourne is coming and then get yourselves back to the ship. O'Neill is confident that she can pilot the thing back through the gate with no issues.\

"Gotcha, Daniel out." Letting go of the radio Daniel looked over to Teal'c who had been listening in to the conversation. "You heard her, Teal'c. Let's go and see what _King Arkhan_ wants to do."

That had lead to Harry protesting once more about the validity of the prophecies in the ruins. "Uh, I know it sounds crazy, but Gerran was right about the prophecies. They have all come true."

"Maybourne, Sam's says we're leaving and if you want come with us you have to do it now."

xxx

Jac had played with the interface while she and the Colonel waited for Daniel and Teal'c to return, bouncing ideas of the older woman about what sort of things she could 'ask' of the ship to see what range it had in services provided. Between them they had already uncovered a small handheld device that registered life signs, which was handy for establishing that, for whatever range the device scanned, they were alone. The HUD had soon also provided a status on the weapons of the ship, indicating that it had a depleted supply of drones onboard, and the welcome revelation that it had a cloak. Carter had had to venture out the rear of the craft to establish if it still worked, which it did.

It was the scan of the surrounding space about the planet, another handy feature, that proved the most unsettling as it immediately picked up the presence of a ha'tak vessel just reaching orbit about the planet.

"Daniel," Sam cried into her radio.

\Here, Sam.\

"We've got a big problem."

\Ship not moving?\

"No. From the instruments that this ship has it has detected a large ship arriving in orbit. Ares is already here. How far are you two from the gate?"

There was pause, Daniel obviously conferring with Teal'c who'd have a better idea of the distance and time involved, before the two women heard, \Give us another seven minutes.\

"Understood. Carter out."

Jac glanced at her commanding officer. "Do you think the ha'tak can pick up the ship?"

That was something Sam hadn't considered. "Engage the cloak. Hopefully that will be enough to hide us, and with luck they're not looking for anything like it anyway."

With a nod, Jac closed her eye momentarily in order to render the ship invisible. Then they settled in for a tense seven-minute wait. Luckily for their nerves the two men arrived at the ship after only four minutes, although while Teal'c looked as he always did, Daniel was a little on the winded side.

"That was good time," remarked Sam from where she stood near the ship entrance. The two men had arrived to find the ship seemingly missing and Sam had stepped out to let them know that it was still there, just cloaked.

"We considered time to be of great value," said Teal'c as he, Sam, and Daniel boarded the ship and Jac set the rear door to closing.

"We heard the gate activating on our way here. Ares' Jaf'fa will be at the village by now," Daniel managed between deep huffs of air.

"Is the gate still active?"

"No idea," coughed Daniel.

Jac reached out her right had and tapped in the address for Earth. Pressing the activate button produced no response from the HUD. "The wormhole is still active, Ma'am."

Carter turned back to the forward compartment and sank into the seat next to Jac. "Can't leave that way then. Ideas, anyone?"

The archaeologist shook his head as his breathing steadied. Teal'c suggested returning to the village on foot and attempting to take out the Jaf'fa that had arrived. Carter vetoed that on the grounds that it might provoke Ares to simply bombard the village from orbit.

"Ah," Jac croaked, wincing with embarrassment at how nervous she sounded. She'd worked with these three for roughly seven years and could do it again. So far they'd shown nothing that pointed to them rumbling her previous identity, so she just had to focus and get comfortable with making suggestions.

"Ah," she tried again, "this ship does have limited weapons. Could we try knocking Ares out of orbit with an attack? We've got a good chance of striking hard and fast now that we know the ship has a cloak."

The three other members of SG-1 looked at the Captain with thoughtful consideration, causing Jac to wonder if she'd grown another head.

"Well, if nothing else did, that proves that she's an O'Neill," commented Daniel, recalling SG-1's decision, along with Landry, to treat the Captain as if she truly was Jack's niece. They knew there was no reason to draw attention to the fact that they knew she was essentially part of a covert form of witness protection.

"Pardon?" Jac was floored. What had the archaeologist meant by that.

"Simply, Captain, that your first instinct was to suggest blowing the Goa'uld out of the sky. That was pure Jack."

Teal'c was wearing a smirk and from the light in Carter's eyes Jac was sure that the older woman was laughing on the inside.

"We like things that make loud explosions," said Jac, letting herself enjoy the moment and shrugging her shoulders. "So sue us."

Wiping the tears of laughter from his eyes, Daniel put his glasses back on and watched the young woman closely. SG-1 hadn't really laughed like in a long time, not since Jack had been promoted to General. It did his heart good to see Sam smiling once more.

"I think you'll fit in well with SG-1, Captain," Daniel eventually said once the laughter was out of everyone's systems.

"Jac," she replied. "Call me Jac."

"And that goes likewise for me," Daniel countered.

"You wish to be called 'Jac' also?" asked Teal'c from his corner of the rear cabin. "Will that not be confusing?"

Daniel threw a power bar wrapper at the Jaf'fa. "You knew what I meant, and does the Captain — _Jac_, I mean."

"I'm honoured, Daniel." Jac's face bore a huge smile. She may not be quite where she was prior to finding the Ancient outpost in Antarctica, but she was as close as she was probably going to ever get.

"Perhaps now we can chose a course of action," said Teal'c, refocussing the conversation back on the original topic of discussion. "I too find some appeal in CaptainO'Neill's suggestion to create a loud explosion." The Jaf'fa gave Jac a small smile.

Daniel looked at Sam. "Too risky?"

Sam shook her head. "Actually, it might just work. Ares won't be expecting such an attack, especially now that his Jaf'fa have most likely scouted the area around the gate and found little other than Maybourne and his villagers. Plus, as the Captain said, the cloak this ship has gives us an even greater advantage."

"So," breathed Daniel in a rather dramatic fashion, "it looks like we will be fulfilling Maybourne's prophecy after all."

"You have a go, Captain."

With Carter's words, Jac turned to face the HUD once more and took up the handles of the console. Eyes fluttering closed once more she 'sang' with the ship till she was sure that everything was running as well as it could, then opened her eyes and gently moved the flight sticks. There was a slight bump as the Ancient ship left the ground, but soon it was soaring invisibly into the air and in the direction of the orbiting ha'tak vessel.

The HUD was busy screaming information at Jac, letting her know that the drones were armed and ready, exactly where the ship was in relation to the planet, and everything that the sensors could tell her about the large form of the ha'tak that was slowly taking up more and more of the clear forward window as they raced towards it.

"According to the data," Sam explained to Teal'c and Daniel, who had taken up the third and fourth seats in the cockpit area, "the ha'tak doesn't seemed to have put their shields up, which means that the cloak is working as it should and we've not been noticed."

"What should I be aiming for?" Jac asked of her commanding officer.

"Vital systems. If we can hit something connected to the power supply of the ship we may just be able to trigger a chain reaction and destroy the ha'tak completely."

"Where would these vital areas be?" At Jac's further question the HUD suddenly pulled up a detailed scan of the ha'tak, one which Teal'c was able to point at as he outlined the best places for a surgical strike on the larger craft.

"Right," said Jac through gritted teeth. "Let's see just how well this ship really handles."

With a mental push the ship seemed to rocket forward, prompting Carter to comment of it probably having inertial dampeners of some kind built in. Jac flew the ship in low before pulling up dramatically so that the ship was flying towards the base of the ha'tak, twirling on its vertical axis as it did so.

"Weapons," muttered Jac to herself, the 'singing' of the ship letting her know that two pods on either side of the hull had extended in preparation of deploying the drones.

Fixating on the targets Teal'c had picked out Jac let the ship know what she wanted and suddenly two streaking yellow lights flew away from the ship, punching their way deep into the ha'tak. With a jerk of the handles Jac had the smaller ship twisting away from the larger vessel and sailing back towards the surface of the planet. The HUD changed once more to give a rear view which showed the spectacular explosions that rocked the ha'tak before it dissolved in a short lived ball of fire.

"Another one in the cell," crowed Jac at the image the HUD had shown.

"'In the cell'?" queried Daniel.

"It is an ice hockey term, I believe," uttered Teal'c gravely. "CaptainO'Neill, like her uncle, has, I fear, obviously been seduced by the sport."

xxx

There followed a simple moping up operation, Landry willing to send SG-3 through to P9X-045 to help deal with Ares' remaining Jaf'fa who were no longer able to menace the villagers as they had done only a short time ago. Maybourne was is usual self, going on about how he had no doubts in his mind that things would work out the way he had said they would.

With SG-3 and the remaining Jaf'fa now long gone, SG-1 stood next to the grounded Ancient ship as they made their good-byes. Each had a small posy of flowers in their hands, Jac using hers to distract herself from the wandering eye that Harry was _still_ casting over herself despite the warning she'd given him. If it had been worth the paperwork involved, Jac might just have demonstrated _physically_ just how she felt about that.

"You are sure you don't want to leave all this?" Daniel was asking. After all, their original mission _had_ been to bring Maybourne back with them.

"I can't abandon these people, Jackson. I made a life here — I can't walk away from my home, my friends... my wives."

"Wives?" was Carter's spluttered response. Jac merely settled for giving Maybourne the evil eye before slipping inside the ship and using the DHD to dial Earth.


	12. The Hearing

THANKS: A big thank you to Karen Joy who worked hard as my Beta on this chapter.

**TWELVE: The Hearing**

SGC

February 2nd, 2005

1737 hrs

"I'm impressed, SG-1," General Landry finally stated at the end of the debriefing session following the mission to P9X-045. "You may not have come back with Maybourne as intended, but that was purely a practical call, designed to keep him out of the clutches of the Goa'uld."

Landry leaned forward in his seat, eyes sweeping over the four-person team seated at the briefing table. "Instead you've dealt with another Goa'uld, the Tok'Ra will be pleased I'm sure about the end of Ares, and brought us back an Ancient ship. With the added bonus of what may well be a working time-travel device. The tech people are practically chomping at the bit to have a crack at it."

"Thank you, Sir," acknowledged Carter, speaking for her whole team.

"This makes what I'm going to tell you now rather galling."

"Sir?"

Hank sighed and rubbed at his forehead briefly. "You recall Colonel Munro of SG-15."

"Yes, Sir," Sam managed tightly. The man hadn't impressed her at all, with the way he had behaved on P2X-117.

Across from her in another seat, Jac cast her eyes to the table. Munro hadn't been something she'd invested much time since she'd escaped Ba'al's clutches.

"Despite talking to the man myself, one-on-one, and urging him not to do so, Colonel Munro has decided the press ahead with his decision to file a complaint against Captain O'Neill."

"Accusing her of what?" cried Daniel, which left Jac feeling slightly warmed that SG-1 were already in her camp and fighting for her.

"That her decision to ignore the direct order of Major Killian led to the death of Killian on P2X-117," explained General Landry.

"This is serious," remarked Teal'c.

"I'm afraid it is," agreed Landry. "The date for the hearing has been set down for the Fifteenth this month. As you were all involved in the events of P2X-117 you will all be required to testify during the course of the hearing."

"Why are you dropping this on the Captain now?" Carter questioned with some heat in her voice.

"My apologies, Captain, SG-1. As I said, I had hoped to talk Munro out of doing this. I was only informed of the date this morning while you were off world."

"And how is Jac supposed to deal with a hearing of this kind with only a few days notice? How long have you known that Munro was pursuing this course of action?" Daniel was livid and it showed on his face, an expression that was usually reserved only for things such as genocide.

Landry didn't like the feeling of being on the defensive and barked a sharp order for SG-1 to 'sit down and shut up'. Once he had quiet, he turned to Jac. "Your thoughts, Captain."

"Sir. What do you think my chances are?"

"I've no idea I'm afraid. You've already got a JAG assigned to you. He's cleared to know _all_ about the stargate. He'll be here tomorrow to talk with you on how you will deal with the hearing and what your chances might be. Until both sides are ready for the hearing, you are required to remain on the base."

"Understood, General. May I retire to my quarters?"

"Dismissed, Captain."

Feeling awkward, Jac stood up, saluted, and shuffled her way out of the briefing room without looking back. As she wandered the corridors of the SGC Jac felt she should have known something like this was going to happen. Her life had been on the up for the last month, so it stood to reason that the universe would find some way to remind her that she was becoming to big for her boots.

Those remaining in the briefing room sat quietly in contemplation until Landry sighed and lounged back in his chair, a look of disgust gracing his features.

"Just to be clear," Daniel finally said, "which order did Jac disobey that has Munro hot under the collar?"

"The one that saved Lieutenant Sanderson's life," explained Carter, her gaze still on the now closed door of the briefing room through which the Captain had exited.

February 3rd, 2005

1005 hrs

Jac had not had a good night of sleep the previous evening, as thoughts of the hearing she had been effectively ambushed with keeping her awake long into the small hours of the morning. What sleep she had obtained was followed by a brutal run through the corridors of the SGC at five in the morning, then a scalding hot shower, which failed to wash away all the mounting thoughts of dread that her mind kept returning to. Now she sat in one of the many discussion rooms on Level 17, drawing doodles on the pad of paper she had brought with her for notes, and waiting for her JAG representative to show their face.

It was as she was thinking herself lucky that she'd not run into Munro this morning, having learned he too was confined to the base till the conclusion of the hearing, since she may have simply cut loose and punched the offending senior officer, that the door to the briefing room opened and a man swept in. He was dressed in a crisp Air Force uniform that indicated that he held the rank of Lieutenant and from first glance looked to be of around twenty-five years of age. This was obviously the JAG that Landry had mentioned had been assigned to her for the duration of the hearing.

Placing his papers on the desk the man flashed Jac what she assumed was supposed to be a comforting smile and held out his hand for her to shake. She stood and did so, watching him carefully for his reactions.

"Captain O'Neill," she stated.

"Lieutenant Samuel Forrester, JAG," the man replied in kind.

He gestured to the table and they both took seats, Jac reaching for her to play with it as she waited for the Lieutenant to begin talking.

"First of all, despite my young age and rank, I have been at this lark for three years. So you don't have to worry that you've been hamstrung with a rookie."

Jac nodded in appreciation of that fact, but had assumed, that if General Landry wasn't in Munro's court about this – easily spotted given the General's comments the previous day – then he wouldn't be trying to sandbag her with her legal representation. Forrester laid out his papers and plucked one from the piles.

"Colonel Phillip Munro has filed a charge of mutiny against you, Captain."

Jac frowned.

"He is charging you under Article Ninety-Four of the Uniform Code of Military Justice for refusing to obey orders or otherwise do your duty. This is a serious charge, Captain, as those making the decision are allowed to punish you up to and including death."

Forrester carefully watched his client's face for a reaction to this pronouncement, but the Captain gave hardly any sign at having heard it at all. There was a pregnant pause that the Lieutenant broke by adding in a slightly more chipper tone "But I don't think it is likely to come to that."

"Then the prosecution will press for dishonourable discharge and a period of jail time, am I correct?" summed up Jac.

"Most likely," admitted Forrester.

Jac huffed in annoyance and stabbed her pen nib-first into her notepad.

"Perhaps...," suggested the JAG representing Jac, "perhaps we should begin by you telling me how things went on P2X-117 from _your_ point of view."

February 5th, 2005

1441 hrs

"Last week was a good week," Daniel complained to thin air as he sat at his desk. "Why couldn't _this_ week be like last week?"

"Talking to yourself again, Daniel, or do we have an ascended being in the room?" Sam was smirking from the doorway at the slightly startled archaeologist.

"Just musing on many of life's frustrations Sam." Daniel cast the pen he'd been working with aside and stood to stretch his legs. A glance at the clock on the wall—a desk clock was useless since it would always end up covered in paper and books —told Daniel that he'd been at his work for some four hours straight.

"Yes," said Sam, spotting the glance at not only the clock, but also the large collection of used coffee mugs, "I'd thought you might have forgotten to feed yourself. I've just finished with Captain O'Neill's JAG representative, going over what happened on P2X-117."

Playing with his glasses, Daniel threw his jacket on from where it had hung over the back of his seat, and waved a hand towards his office door. "You can tell me all about it over some food."

They walked to the commissary in silence, obtained their meals and took up a vacant bench near the back of the room where they most likely wouldn't be disturbed. Daniel took to the food with gusto, not having realized before just how hungry he was until Sam had mentioned the idea of lunch. Carter ate her meal at a more leisurely pace, half a smile on her face at Daniel's appetite.

"So, how'd it go?" the younger man eventually managed once he'd worn the edge off his hunger and was now attacking his meal in a more dignified manner.

"Same as yours went yesterday, I'm guessing. Forrester just let me talk the whole mission through and then asked questions for additional detail."

Daniel nodded his head, Sam's summary pretty much what he'd already been through.

"He also wanted to know if I'd served with either Munro or Killian before, if I knew of any reason why the man might want to target the Captain in such a manner."

"I know this sounds strange, coming from a civilian — especially _me_," began Daniel, "but Jac did ignore a direct order from her superior. Most forms of organized military, and some not so organized, tend to regard that sort of behaviour as mutiny."

"Tell me something I don't know, Daniel."

"Look, you're part of the Air Force, so you probably have a better idea than myself, but what do you think Jac's chances are?"

"Pretty good, actually. She's got SG-1, General Landry, and the guy she rescued, Lieutenant Sanderson, all pulling in her direction. Against that Munro has himself and the supposed dying words of Major Killian."

"Then if she's likely to survive this hearing, what has got you so wound up, Sam?"

"Think about it for a moment Daniel. What has Munro accused O'Neill of?"

"Mutiny. Paragraph Eighty-four wasn't it?" Daniel had laid his cutlery to the side of his plate in curiosity.

"That's officially what he's going for," agreed Sam, "but generally what is he accusing her of?"

Daniel frowned, wrinkling his forehead. "Not obeying orders?" he managed.

Sam nodded. "What SGC team leader, or leader of any Air Force unit outside this base for that matter, is going to want someone on their team who has been accused of not following orders? Especially since that sort of behaviour can get people killed."

"Oh!"

"Oh, indeed."

"But you'll want to keep her as a part of SG-1, surely?"

"I do," acknowledged Sam, "but I'm not getting any younger, Daniel, and O'Neill can't always rely on me being around to give her a position on a team. I've been looking at changing to Area 51, after all."

"Sam?"

"It's just an idea I've had in the back of my mind since my encounter with Fifth while Jack was in stasis. I'm not going anywhere just yet."

"'Just yet' being the operative words. But I can see what you are talking about. After all, if, after we find Jack, another spot comes up for a mission to the Pegasus galaxy, then..."

"Things change," summed up Sam. "This hearing could stick the Captain with a mutiny tag that could, no matter the result, haunt her career, maybe even stop her from advancing any further."

"So _we_ have to beat that tag."

"Hmm. Just wish I knew why Munro was pursuing this so forcefully."

"You saw his behaviour yourself, Sam, on '117. He's just taken a violent dislike to Jac," reasoned Daniel.

"If that's all it was, Daniel, I'd agree. General Landry said he's tried to reason with Munro on this and the man won't budge. I feel he's being driven by something more than just a dislike of O'Neill."

"Like what? Maybe he's really cut up about Killian's death?"

Sam snorted.

"What?"

"You really do bury your head in your work sometimes!" exclaimed Sam.

"Well, so do you. But, tell me then, what is it I've missed that is so obvious to you."

"Munro absolutely hated Killian. Killian got the spot on SG-4 that Munro wanted, even though he was of a lesser rank. That really irritated him. The base scuttlebutt was that Munro was in a bad mood for a month."

Daniel frowned. "Did you tell Forrester this?"

Sam shook her head and sighed. "All hearsay I'm afraid."

"And this has to do with Jac, how?"

"That wasn't the only promotion Munro missed out on. More recently I beat him as Second-in-Command for this base when Jack took over as head."

"So," said Daniel as he worked it out in this head, "this could be some sort of revenge on Jack via his 'niece'?"

Sam shrugged. "Maybe. All I know is that something _other_ than this mess about mutiny has to be driving the Colonel."

Jack's Ale House, Colorado Springs

February 9th, 2005

1926 hrs

The previous day Lt. Forrester had informed Jac that both he and the prosecution were ready to state their cases before the hearing. That meant, until the event began on the fifteenth, that both she and Munro were freed from being confined to the base. Jac had taken the opportunity to go home and climb into her shower where she put the water on as hot as she could stand it, and sat in huddle on the floor of the shower crying to herself.

All of her pent up emotions that she'd been holding onto since SG-1's return from P9X-045 had been purged with that good cry, and feeling clean and more relaxed she'd trespassed on Sara's goodwill by phoning the older woman in Boston and airing all her troubles. Sara proved to be a good shoulder to cry on, even if she was at the other end of a phone an ungodly large number of miles away. In some ways, Jac still found it something of a crutch to have to lean on someone to help her through such a crisis, but only the other hand she had to concede that she did _feel_ a lot better after having done so.

Thus she met up with the rest of SG-1, at the requested location of a local bar for some informal team bonding, in a far better mood than she might have been otherwise. Jac did have to wonder exactly how much of this 'bonding' would involve Daniel probing the validity of her familial 'connection' to Jack O'Neill and the Lt. Colonel picking at her brains in order to sound out and work through her latest scientific conundrums. Stepping out of her modest car that she had pulled into a vacant parking space, she slammed the door shut and locked the vehicle.

Looking up she spotted Daniel loitering outside the bar with Teal'c. If she didn't know better, she might have assumed that the bigger man of the pair was Daniel's pimp. Smothering a giggle at the shocked looks on the men's face should she share _that_ idea, she checked that she had her wallet in the front pocket of her jeans. Sara had failed to convince her of the need for a purse. Jac moved up to the odd pair in a sprightly manner and said hello, interrupting a conversation about the forthcoming hearing.

"Don't want to hear a word about that tonight, Daniel," she said with a smile. After all, even if she was forced out of the Air Force, she had a completely new life in front of her to do with as she wished. Just because she was in the Air Force now, and had been in her previous identity, didn't mean she was tied to it for another lifetime.

"Fine," the archaeologist agreed. "Sam said she'd be a tad late and, since you're now here, we can wander in and find a spot."

"Sounds good." Linking arms with a surprised Teal'c (his eyebrow was lifted significantly), Jac threw a winning smile at Daniel and led the Jaf'fa into the bar, leaving the younger man to follow them inside with a slightly bemused look on his face. After all, it wasn't a good idea to leave them out there where Daniel might be propositioned.

The bar that had been chosen as the location for the informal team bonding session was a reasonably upscale joint, lots of wood and glass. Teal'c and Jac had already scouted out the interior, located a suitable booth and sat down by the time Daniel had stepped inside and played with his glasses as if polishing them might help his eyes deal with the change in lighting. Once Daniel had sat down at the same booth with them, Teal'c had stood and disappeared in search of the bar.

"Murray's gone to order," explained Jac as Daniel watched the retreating back of the Jaf'fa.

Swinging his gaze back to Jac, her gave her a piercing look. "How did you know we call him Murray when we're outside of the mountain?"

"Honestly, Daniel! I did have a lot of down time to recover from that bastard Ba'al and put it to good use perusing SG-1 past mission files."

"And what exactly did you learn from all that reading?" Daniel grinned.

"That you end up dead far too often for a man of your short years and that Colonel Carter does six impossible things before breakfast most days."

"And Murray?"

"Murray? Murray is always there when you need him."

This was immediately confirmed by the larger man looming out of the swarm of bar patrons to seat himself in the booth next to Jac and opposite Daniel. He passed out the drinks he had; a light beer in a glass for Daniel, an orange juice for himself, and a Guinness still in the bottle for Jac. There was a fourth drink for Sam once she showed her face.

"Guinness? That's Jack's drink!"

"Who do you think got me hooked on them in the first place?" responded Jac with a smug look and a laugh, playing up to the cover identity. Although, she mentally told herself, it didn't feel like a _cover_ identity. She had been forced to own the name of Jac and all that came with it. It was now hers and she didn't want to let go. If she was suddenly given the opportunity to change back right now, Jac wasn't sure if she would take it.

"Now that sounds like Jack, corrupting the youth of today by supplying them with alcohol," mused Daniel.

Teal'c merely raised an eyebrow at the banter already flowing forth between the two humans.

"Geez, Daniel, you make me sound like I'm twelve!" Jac clasped her hands together and held them up under her chin, fluttering her eyelashes for added effect.

Daniel nearly spat out the mouthful of beer he'd taken, at the very least forced to swallow it rather awkwardly and wipe his mouth with the back of his hand. Setting his glass back on the coaster provided, Daniel warned her to at least make sure he wasn't taking a drink when she did something like that in the future.

"Doing what in the future?" asked the newly arrived Sam who stood at the foot of the booth.

Daniel slid round the circular booth, which brought him closer to Jac who was on his left, in order to make room for Carter who sat down on his right and opposite Teal'c. Once the woman was seated, Teal'c slid another light beer, this time still in the bottle, across the table in the middle of the booth to sit in front of the newcomer. Sam took a swig and said, "Well?"

"O'Neill was flirting with DanielJackson and the effect was quite strong, provoking DanielJackson to request that O'Neill flirt with less power next time."

The archaeologist was favouring Teal'c with a flat, open-mouthed stare at that assessment, and Sam had really wanted to burst out laughing at such an idea. What had stopped Sam from breaking down in laughter was the look of pure, unadulterated horror on Jac's face. The younger woman hurried murmured something about having to go to the ladies room and, once Teal'c and moved aside, Jac was gone like a speeding bullet. Shaking her head slightly Sam stood and walked slowly after the distressed Captain, leaving Daniel to field Teal'c's question of what it was that he'd said that had offended Jac. Hopefully, whatever it was turned out to be something insignificant, since Sam wasn't happy with the idea of the new SG-1 becoming a train crash only a week or two into action.

Sam found Jac in one of the stalls, busy throwing up what little beer she had drunk and the meal she'd had for dinner before coming out for the social gathering. She couldn't help but chuckle and observe, "I can not believe that you think Daniel is ugly enough to provoke the sort of reaction I'm seeing, especially if _Teal'c_ believes that you were flirting."

Jac retched again and having emptied her stomach, she leant back against the wall of the stall for a moment before turning and, brushing past Sam, taking to one of the basins where she turned the tap on. Cupping water her hands she took it into her mouth, let is swirl for a second and spat it out. Once she had repeated this activity a couple more times she reached for a paper towel from the dispenser and wiped her hands and mouth clean.

"Sorry," she said to Sam's reflection in the bathroom mirror, hurriedly thinking of an excuse for her behaviour, "must be nerves about the hearing next week."

Sam simply held her stare on the Captain, waiting for her to say something more. Jac sighed and turned to look at the older woman properly as she tried to say something that wasn't an outright lie to her commanding officer. The fewer lies she had to remember the better. "Daniel's a great guy, and if there weren't other... _issues_ in the way then perhaps he'd be good for me. Sara said I have a habit of flirting when I don't mean to. I thought we were just having a fun conversation."

Carter was furiously trying to work out what the younger woman was actually saying, while Jac hoped that she wouldn't ask any further about the precise nature of those 'issues'. The comment about flirting when she didn't mean to be was confusing and Sam simply chalked it up to her previous speculation, of this O'Neill being less experienced in relationship than her Uncle, being on target. She filed it away for closer consideration later.

"Issues?" Sam pressed.

Jac winced since this wasn't something she wanted to get into. After all, how does one say 'I'm throwing up at the mental image of doing the naked pretzel with Daniel. This is because only a few months ago I was his commanding officer and _male_!' without lying. "Ba'al," she finally said.

"Ba'al?" Sam let the name of the Goa'uld roll around her tongue before she spat it out.

"Ba'al." Jac wanted it left at that. Ba'al made a good 'catch all' reason for anything she did that was slightly odd and she had no doubt that Brightman would back her up should anybody go digging deeper.

"You're not going to tell me anything more, are you?" asked Carter with a sigh.

Jac shook her head. "I'm talking it all through with Doctor Brightman and my Aunt. Can we leave it at that?"

Sam looked long and hard at the younger woman for a long time. Eventually she nodded her head and the tension that had been thrumming in the background since she'd followed Jac into the bathroom began to bleed away. Both women then took the opportunity to check themselves in the provided wall mirror over the basins before presenting a united female front and exiting the bathroom.

Returning to their seats, Jac apologized to Daniel and Teal'c for her sudden departure for the women's toilets. After that, it took only a bit more drink for the awkward atmosphere to leave and the team to begin chatting enthusiastically. Daniel managed to keep any observations on the falseness of Jac's familial connection to Jack to himself and Sam only once directed the conversation towards the underlying mathematics that was a part of Asgaard shield technology. Jac managed to not only answer the question of this topic that had been posed by Sam, but change the topic of conversation to _The Simpsons_ while at the same time generating a laugh from Daniel and a curling of lips from Teal'c.

By the time the team had spent over two hours talking and drinking, most of the barriers that had divided Jac from the rest of the team were gone – helped in large part by the fact that Jac already knew pretty well how the three of them ticked and what to say to make them feel comfortable and at home. If the other three felt that sometimes Jac seemed a little too _familiar_ for someone who'd been offworld with them only twice, none of them gave any outward sign of it.

Despite the early speed bump of Teal'c 'flirting' observation, the night was considered by Jac to be a success for two important reasons. One, she had managed to get along with the rest of SG-1 in a social situation without too many awkward of the feelings that she had thought might arise from such a situation. She was sure that at least Daniel, and possibly the other two, had doubts as to her actually being Jack's niece, but they didn't show any signs of knowing that she was originally Jack himself which she figured at the moment was probably the more awkward of the two potential revelations.

The second reason for the general success of the evening was that she had been able to forget about the forthcoming hearing for a few hours. Thus, it came as no surprise to herself that she was able to rest her head on her pillow and quickly fall asleep with a smile on her face.

SGC

February 11th, 2005

1214 hrs

Juggling the two trays of commissary food in her hands Jac nodded to the guard on duty outside the nondescript door. The guard slung his weapon over his shoulder and proceeded to unlock the door and hold it open to allow her entry. With a smile and a polite 'thank you', Jac stepped into the room. She had put more effort into watching her interactions with the opposite sex since the idea of Daniel and herself had been so _helpfully_ raised by Teal'c a couple of days before, and hoped that the guard came away with nothing more than the impression that she was polite. After that evening in the bar, Jac had reminded herself that if Sara pointed out something that needed working on then it was probably a good idea to follow up the suggestion.

The room she had stepped into wasn't particularly inviting, consisting as it did of four blank, concrete walls. There wasn't even a painting hand on one of the walls to add a little colour. What decor there was included a table, two chairs, and a bed. Jac wasn't surprised by the contents of the room since it matched the contents of every other holding room within the SGC that was designed to accommodate prisoners.

Placing the two trays of food on the table Jac sank into one of the seats and raised her eyebrow at the figure sitting in the opposite seat.

"Good afternoon, O'Neill," rumbled L'masee as he gave the correct greeting that Teal'c had instructed him with.

"And a good afternoon to you, L'masee," replied Jac with a little more bounce in her voice, plastic spork already making circular sweeps of what she assumed was some kind of minced meat.

Seeing that O'Neill had already begun to eat L'masee felt he would not give any offence by beginning to eat himself and picked up the plastic utensil on the tray and prodded the green lump on another part of the tray.

"I think it's supposed to be cabbage," explained Jac when she saw the Jaf'fa play with the offending substance.

"Cabbage?"

"It'll give you big strong muscles and put hair on your chest." Jac took a mouthful of the mince and tilted her head slightly to the left. She chewed a few times and swallowed. It didn't taste brilliant, but it was edible. At least L'masee couldn't accuse her of attempting to poison him.

"I do not require more muscles, nor hair on my chest," stated L'masee firmly.

"Teal'c said something similar if I recall correctly," admitted Jac before realizing that perhaps she shouldn't have let such an observation slip from her lips. Fixing L'masee with a stare, she waved the spork in his face, "Just do your usual silent Jaf'fa routine and forget I said that."

"Understood."

Jac smiled brightly. "I'm glad that we could come to such an understanding so soon, L'masee. Makes me feel confident about our future relations—" The young woman cut herself off and mentally berated herself to _more carefully_ consider her words in future when dealing with the opposite sex – even if he was an alien.

L'masee left the cabbage where it was and began to consume the meat, which had been covered in some kind of tomato sauce mixture.

"Now, how have they been treating you here? I know Teal'c's been in to talk with you at least once a day and even General Landry has dropped by on occasion."

"I have been fairly treated, O'Neill. I have no complaints with which to speak of."

"Super." Jac frowned. "You're not just saying that to get on my good side are you, 'cause I'm sure you don't have any proof that I even _have_ a good side."

"I am sure."

"Great. Just asking, 'cause you know Teal'c did lie about a few things when he signed up with the SGC. Like his family, and that little revenge thing with Cronus."

L'masee nodded to indicate he understood where Jac was going, but he didn't add anything to what he had already said. He was a relatively young Jaf'fa and didn't have a family of his own to deny knowledge of, and, while he no longer regarded Ba'al as a god, he had no burning desire to hunt the man down and kill him. No, as far as L'masee was concerned, he was hiding nothing like that from the woman he had pledged his service to.

Jac meanwhile was waving her spork at L'masee. "Now, Teal'c also tells me that you have some sort of warrior's oath thing going on with reference to myself. Something about me being your 'guiding voice'?"

The Jaf'fa laid his spork aside and folded his hands. "I pledged myself in service to you, O'Neill. Your conquest of me on that battlefield allowed for the opportunity to align myself with someone more powerful than Ba'al."

"But you do know I'm not a god, right?" Jac wanted to _especially_ make sure of that point.

L'masee nodded and Jac sighed in relief. "That you lack a godhood does not devalue or detract from my pledge, O'Neill. I _will_ stand at your side as your shield."

"Yes, well, that does bring to the next niggly little thing. Landry has explained how the SGC works to you?"

"Of course."

"So you do know that I don't get any say in whether or not you get to do your side-standing-shield-thing with me?"

"Indeed."

"Ah! Good. Right. Okay." Jac mentally fished around for something to say. She stalled by taking a bite of the cabbage.

"Teal'c has explained that I may be asked to return through the chaapa'ai rather than remain here and serve with you," L'masee eventually said, illustrating that he did indeed understand the situation at hand.

"Yeah. Not that I _want_ you to go," added Jac hastily. "Teal'c was good for SG-1 and I can see that you do the same for a second team here." There was an awkward pause. "Do you have a Plan B in case General Landry is told to give you the ol' heave ho?"

"'Heave ho'?"

"If you are asked to leave the SGC."

L'masee gave a small smile. "Teal'c will introduce to Master Bra'tac and I will serve as a part of the Free Jaf'fa."

Sitting back in her seat Jac felt as if some invisible burden had been lifted from her shoulders. L'masee's fate was no longer dependant on being accepted as part of the SGC. "Well, that as good a Plan B as I've ever heard. And I have heard quite a few since Plan A _never_, _ever_ seems to work out as planned."

February 15th, 2005

0800 hrs

The actual process of the hearing was something that Jac was already familiar with, having sat through a handful as Jack. This time there were a couple of differences. For one, she was now _Jac_ O'Neill—who was a person who had no personal experience of such things—and thus had to fake some small lack of knowledge, and pretend to listen to Forrester's briefing. The second was that even though she had attended such hearings before as Jack, it had never been in the capacity of the one being charged. So even if the first point had meant she could pretend to listen to Forrester, the second meant she truly had to pay attention.

That briefing, and Forrester's coaching in how to handle the hearing, had taken place in the three days leading up to the hearing debate, which left Jac with no time to follow up her conversation with L'masee. At least Teal'c had already informed the younger Jaf'fa of the situation so that L'masee was not left wondering about the actions of the one that he'd pledged himself to. The rest of the time Jac had spent getting her SGC personal space sorted out and discussing her place on SG-1 with the rest of the team. Despite the mission together to recover Maybourne, Jac wasn't quite sure what the rest of SG-1 expected from her when through the gate. Was she to be Colonel Carter's military right hand, or to handle Carter's position as the scientist to free her up to lead the team? Was she Daniel's bodyguard, or Teal'c's helpmate for anything physical that needed to be done?

The rounds of discussion between the four and Landry eventually settled on Jac taking on more of the team's scientific issues and doubling up with Daniel which allowed Carter the freedom to properly lead the team and for Teal'c to fill the role of second-in-command even if he wasn't technically a part of any Earth-based military command structure. Meanwhile, everyone was quietly hopeful that Munro's case against Jac would prove to be blown out of proportion and that the final ruling would be in Jac's favour. Even Forrester was optimistic that Jac had a better than even chance of coming out vindicated rather than vilified.

At the appointed time, the two sides involved in the dispute lined up in the temporary courtroom. It was one of the Level 17 briefing rooms, its furniture rearranged to accommodate the upcoming event. There were three long benches, each accompanied by the appropriate number of seats. Two were almost side by side, only a gap to create an aisle separating them. These were the prosecution and defence benches, and opposite them was the third, a good three metres away, which was the bench for the hearing judges. The two opposing sides shared a few angry and heated glares, Teal'c looking like he was trying to turn Munro into a smear on the floor through willpower alone, as they took their seats.

It hadn't been until the day before that both teams had been informed just how the hearing was going to be managed and decided upon. The end decision had been a judging panel of three, and it was this three that strode into the room a minute or two after the prosecution and defence groups. All three were easily identified as Air Force from the insignias on their uniforms, and Jac considered that this really wasn't a surprise given both she and Munro were Air Force.

What was a surprise was who had been chosen to head the panel of judges. The one who immediately stood out for Jac, and the rest of SG-1, was Lieutenant General George S. Hammond. The familiar figure a welcome sight for the young woman. On top of every good quality that the older man possessed, Hammond had the advantage of knowing that Jac was once Jack. The second was Major General Alan T. West whom all of SG-1 but Teal'c knew as the man who had been the military supervisor of the stargate project when Jack and Daniel had made that first trip through the gate. Jac wasn't worried by this choice since West had always struck her as a fair man, even if he was willing to use a man with suicidal tendencies to get a mission done.

It was the third that had Jac, and her team by extension, uneasy. The third member of the panel was the tall and imposing figure of Major General Christopher K. Bauer, the man that had temporarily replaced Hammond as commander of the base after some underhanded manoeuvring by then Senator Kinsey. In the short time Bauer had led the facility he had impressed Jac as a hard and unbending person and she was unsure just how he would react to the case that was to be presented this day. Jac also harboured worries about just how the man had been selected to be on the panel for the hearing.

The two groups stood as the Generals entered and saluted them. Behind them came a fourth person whom Jac knew to be the court reporter and who was set up with the required equipment off to the side of the room at a smaller table.

"Please be seated," ordered Hammond as he and the other two judges took up their places at the head table. All three had large folder of paper with them and began organizing themselves. After a moment or two of paper shuffling Hammond spoke again, "For the record I am Lieutenant General George S. Hammond and I will be presiding over this hearing. With me are Major Generals Alan T. West and Christopher K. Bauer."

Hammond nodded to Munro's table where the Colonel and then his representative identified themselves for the scribe to record. Then Jac's table followed suit, SG-1 and Forrester stating their names for the record.

"Now that the basics are out of the way, could we please have the case for the prosecution?"

1456 hrs

"I think I've pinned down the planet that Ba'al is looking for," explained Daniel in his usual breathless manner. Something that Teal'c often mused was the result of a lifetime raised on large quantities of caffeine and which made him once again grateful that he himself was not dependant on the drink.

"Great," said Carter, speaking for her team which currently lacked Captain O'Neill.

After the conclusion of the opening day of statements from the prosecution, the Captain had been allowed to go to her home for the day while SG-1 carried out some of their other duties. While Teal'c had spent his time with L'masee, and Carter had tooled about in her lab, Daniel had been busy following up on what little they had learned about what Ba'al was up to in the aftermath of Anubis' attack on Earth several months earlier.

"What are we looking at, Doctor Jackson?" questioned Landry as the archaeologist brought up a starscape on the large screen at the head end of the room. The younger man had asked them to assemble so that he could go over something that he had discovered.

Clicking a button on his remote, Daniel continued as several of the stars on the map were suddenly encased in red circles, "These are planets that either the Tok'Ra or we are sure that Ba'al has visited since Anubis was defeated over Antarctica."

"Fine, fine."

Sparing a look at the General, Daniel went on, "And these are planets on which we've found Ancient artefacts, ones which have markings similar to that of the device from P8X-345."

"They are all from the Ancient prison that Ba'al seeks," summarized Teal'c, looking at this second set of planets all circled by blue circles. Some planets had both red and blue rings.

"Right. Now, here's the timeline, the order in which Ba'al is moving."

While the blue circles remained where they were, the red ones vanished and then began to appear once more, this time one by one in a staggered fashion to indicate Ba'al moving from one to the other. It was obvious to see that the Goa'uld was moving in a certain direction.

"There's only a handful of planets Ba'al hasn't been to in that sector of the galaxy, and of those only P9X-124 has had any artefacts found on it. So, that's our prison planet."

"Exactly!" cried Daniel in response to Sam's reasoning out of the evidence he presented.

Teal'c had, meanwhile, had a dark thought cross the back of his mind and he made a closer scan of the display Daniel had up on the screen. He stood up from his seat and stalked to the screen to better appreciate what he was looking at and hope that whatever was tickling his mind made itself known to him.

"Teal'c?" asked Landry.

The Jaf'fa looked at the display and spotted a planet beyond P9X-124 that had neither red nor blue ring around it. Looking closer he could see the writing that identified the planet as P5X-878. The planet that according to the late SG-5's mission notes had Ancient ruins, the planet that the missing General O'Neill might have visited prior to his disappearance.

"I believe you have overlooked P5X-878," interjected the Jaf'fa over Daniel and Sam's mini celebration.

"P5X-878?" parroted a startled Daniel, fiddling with his glasses.

"Indeed." Teal'c then reminded Carter and Daniel what he recalled of the mission report he'd read. In the background, Landry had begun to squirm the moment he'd heard the Jaf'fa mention '878.

"Then you think '878 might be our prison planet?"

"It could explain the disappearance of SG-5, DanielJackson."

"How so, Teal'c?" asked an intrigued Hank, wondering where the alien was going with his idea. It surely wasn't another attempt to dig up non-existent information of whatever had happened to Jack O'Neill.

"If, indeed, P5X-878 is the planet we seek then could not the underground chamber that SG-5 were investigating be part of a larger prison complex?"

"I suppose," concede Carter. "What does that have to do with SG-5's disappearance?"

"Could they not have been 'punished' by something in that complex in the same manner that the device from P8X-345 sought to 'punish' DanielJackson and yourself?"

The three still seated at the briefing room table were forced to agree that Teal'c did present a somewhat compelling argument for including '878 in Daniel's projections of Ba'al's possible future movements.

"A possibility that intrigues me, Teal'c," stated Landry. "Yet, '878 was locked out of the dialling computer precisely because of what happened to SG-5."

"Then you will have to _unlock_ it if we are to investigate," the Jaf'fa said simply.

Laying his hands on the table, Landry sized up the three members of SG-1 currently on hand. "Fine, SG-1 will investigate '124 _first_. If it's not what we're looking for, you'll try '878. I'll talk to Walter now about getting it unlocked. Meeting over, SG-1."

With that, Landry left the room via the spiral stairs in search of the Chief Master Sergeant. Once the older man was gone, Daniel and Sam turned their eyes on the still standing Teal'c.

"Well, that's one way to blow my presentation out of the water," said Daniel with a huge smile. "Pity that Jack wasn't here to witness it."

"Indeed," said Teal'c somberly.

Sam watched Teal'c carefully for a moment. "You still think something happened to Jack on '878, don't you Teal'c?" she probed.

"It remains a possibility, ColonelCarter, however remote. All we do know is that O'Neill _planned_ to visit the planet."

"So this was a ruse to get Landry to let us visit?" queried Daniel.

Teal'c shook his head. "I do believe that P5X-878 is the planet that Ba'al has been searching for and thus no deception was necessary, DanielJackson."

Slapping Teal'c on the back in a friendly fashion Daniel suggested that they all find something to eat and drink in the commissary in order to celebrate both progress on the Ba'al situation, but also for surviving the first day of Jac's hearing.

Jac's House, Colorado Springs

1538 hrs

After a harrowing day of having the prosecution and Colonel Munro doing their best of tar her with every failing known to man and a few more besides, Jac was desperate to be at home and try to relax. Maybe even have another good cry in the shower and a phone conversation with the heavily pregnant Sara. She had stopped off on the way home to buy some essential supplies, which consisted of groceries and two packs of beer. It wasn't all for herself however. While Jack had often drunk to forget his past or to avoid dwelling on things, one of Jac's decisions as a part of moving forward with her new life was to generally avoid drinking in large quantities. She would have one beer while watching _The Simpsons_. The second pack of beer was a present for one of Jack's friends, a local Sheriff named Andy Mikita.

Car neatly parked in the driveway, Jac juggled her purchases and the house key as she walked up to the front door. She made to put the key in the lock only to find on arrival that the front door of her home was ajar. Putting down her burdens, she put her keys away in a jacket pocket and pulled out her assigned firearm. Gently pushing the door further open with the tip of her gun, she poked her head into the house in order to get a better look inside.

Seeing nothing that immediately stood out as wrong she carefully stepped into the house and made a check of the hallway. Still nothing appeared to be out of order so she moved deeper into the house in the general direction of the kitchen and the living room area. Stepping down into the open plan living room, she raised her pistol and trained it on the older man busy helping himself to her very old and much prized scotch that usually sat on the mantelpiece above the fire.

"Bad news, you're out of Scotch," announced Robert Kinsey as he emptied the bottle into the glass he held in his other hand.

"Why the hell do I have ex-Vice President Kinsey breaking into my house!" exclaimed Jac in order to keep her identity going, her weapon still pointed at the man. "I sure as hell didn't vote for you, and stealing my scotch isn't likely to change my mind either."

Kinsey meanwhile simply laughed to himself and settled down in one of the chair dotted about the living room.

"No need to keep the act up with me, _Jack_," said Kinsey with a slight sneer.

Jac's hold on her weapon faltered slightly. "Pardon?"

"Don't play dumb with me, O'Neill. I may have lost a lot of the support I once had, thanks to _you_, but they couldn't keep me off the security board that decided on your fate after that little accident on P5X-878. Spending Oversight was my first political platform and it is one that I have managed to keep close to my chest, even if everybody involved with it now watches me like a hawk if I do anything."

Sinking into a chair opposite Kinsey, her pistol drooping to point at the floor, Jac ran her free hand over her face and through her hair. "You know?"

"_I know_. I couldn't believe the chance that was presented when the knowledge of what had happened filtered up to the Joint Chiefs. I was lucky enough to be there at the time Hammond's call came through, so they couldn't keep me out of it. After that call I did all I could to have the new you kept away from the SGC, since there was no need to inflict your brand of _mayhem_ on the facility for even longer. That bastard Hammond and that back stabber Hayes fought me on that point. In the end I didn't keep you out of the SGC, but I did at least keep you away from SG-1 and them out of the loop."

"So," began Jac retraining her weapon on the gloating man, "you've just dropped by to tell me this in order to do what? Rub salt in the wound?"

"Now, now, Jack," Kinsey tried to placate the irate woman by waving his free hand at her, taking a sip from the glass in his other hand.

Jac meanwhile had stood up and snagged her phone from where it sat on the coffee table a few feet away.

"Who are you calling?"

"Local sheriff's a friend of Jack's," explained Jac as she dialled the number. "He's already dropped by once to let me know he's keeping an eye out for me as Jack's niece. I'm sure that once he hears that some old pervert has broken into my home to harass me he'll be here faster than you lie Kinsey."

"I may be disgraced, but I'm not wanted for any crimes." It was obvious that the conversation wasn't going the way that Kinsey had envisaged it before breaking into Jac's home.

"Breaking and entering? Sexual harassment, perhaps?"

"Jac...," pleaded Kinsey, looking alarmed at the way things were escalating.

Jac placed a finger over her lips and made a shushing sound. "It's ringing," she responded, instructing Kinsey as if she was talking to a small child.

With a sigh of frustration, Kinsey made a quick, searching look of the room for the cradle that the phone handset normally sat in. It was on a small table near Jac's original seat and, having put down his now empty glass, quickly moving to it he followed the phone cable from it with his hands. A sharp wrenching action saw the phone plug spring from its socket and the sudden termination of Jac's phone call.

"Now you can listen to what I have to say," he said triumphantly.

Throwing the handset down on an empty seat Jac simply reached into her jacket pocket to pull out her cellphone, which she began dialling on straight away.

Kinsey was growling in anger by this point. "Oh, for God's sake! You need to start trusting me, Jac."

This didn't seem to work with the young woman, who simply turned partly away from Kinsey. Her pistol was still pointed at the ex-Vice President, although it had now drifted to point at Kinsey's groin.

"Mm, no – I really don't."

"Yes, you really do," Kinsey pleaded in an attempt to play on Jac's sense of justice and protection. "The fate of the planet depends on it."

At this point Jac's phone call connected and she could hear Andy the Sheriff answer the phone.

"Andy. It's Jac."

Kinsey was meanwhile opening his arms to Jac, gesturing as if to ask the woman if this course of action was really what she wanted to do. It was enough to cause Jac to hesitate. From the speaker of the phone the two individuals, who were engaged in a staring contest, could hear the Sheriff trying to establish if Jac was still on the other end of the phone. There was a very long pause before Jac finally spoke into the phone, "I was just checking in. To let you know that everything is fine."

Kinsey was unable to hear Andy's response to this.

"Yes, I've some beer and skittles you can have as payment."

"See ya then," Jac finally said and with a nimble press of her phone, she ended the call.

"Wise decision," was Kinsey's assessment of the situation, smirking smugly as if he knew the outcome was never in doubt.

Still holding her pistol pointed at Kinsey's groin, Jac returned to her original seat and sat down after a look at her wristwatch. "You've got three minutes... before I shoot you as an intruder in my home."

Kinsey laughed once more, as if it was all a game, as took his seat again. "Same old Jack O'Neill – _Jac_, I should say. I hear you're a Captain now. Congratulations."

Jac just gave the man a cold stare at his crowing over her change in station.

"Although I must say that I am annoyed at you seemingly discovering the fountain of youth. I could do with a few additional years myself, not that I would pay the price that you have paid. Just how does it feel to be a woman, _Jac_?"

Not willing to pay Kinsey's stupid power games Jac tapped the glass face of her watch with the bottom lip of the barrel of her pistol, a none too subtle indication that the older man should simply keep on topic and get on with whatever it was that he'd come to say.

"All right, then – straight to the point. You wanna take down The Trust – I can help you."

"I'm sorry – I must have missed an episode. I thought you guys were working together."

"After I was forced to resign as Vice President, my relationship with the organization changed," Kinsey explained through gritted teeth.

"Meaning you were no longer useful, so they kicked you out on your ass."

Kinsey sat back in his seat and frowned. "That's a rather crude way of putting it, but ...yes."

"Why didn't they just shoot you?" asked Jac, voicing an idea that she had often entertained herself when she had needed cheering up.

"Believe me, that was a consideration—which is why, when they requested a meeting a few days ago, I suggested a nice public venue. They made me a very interesting offer."

A quick glance at her watch told Jac that Kinsey had already wasted his three minutes, but she wasn't about to tell him that since he obviously had something to say. If only he'd get to the point without all of his silly, little digs at her gender change. She waved her pistol to tell him to hurry up with getting to the point. She'd give him another minute and a half. After that, she would have to assume that he was stalling for time and would simply shoot him in the leg before calling the SGC for backup.

"In exchange for a large cash payment," Kinsey carried on, "The Trust wants me to arrange a meeting with General Miraslov Kiselev, the Russian Defence Minister."

"I thought they already had connections with the Russian military?" Jac was slightly bemused by all this clandestine back and forth action.

"This isn't just a connection. Kiselev exercises operational authority over all of Russia's armed forces, including their nuclear arsenal."

"And he just happens to be a good friend of yours?" Jac sighed and wondered if she should just shoot him now so that she could open one of her beers and sit back to wait for the Calvary.

"After the fall of communism, he was one of a number of officers assigned to pursue secret talks with the west, aimed at military co-operation. He was a hard-liner even then. His country was falling apart but he came at us as though we were the ones at a disadvantage! He and I developed a... mutual respect."

"What does The Trust want with him?"

Kinsey looked away for a moment before fixing his gaze back on Jac once more. "Well, they wouldn't give me any specifics, but they know we entered into a deal with the Russians for control of the gate, and they also know that there's a growing sentiment in Moscow that we haven't been keeping up our end of the bargain."

"You think they're trying to turn the Russians against us?"

"It's ambitious, I know, even for The Trust, but from what I hear, after you put a crimp in their little plan to use symbiote poison to wipe out the Goa'uld, there's been a change of attitude. They're no longer willing to stay in the shadows and bide their time. They wanna make a direct grab for power. That's why I came to you."

"Yes, you always struck me as the hero type," spat Jac sarcastically. "I'm sure that you also couldn't pass up a chance to laugh at what has happened to me. Well, I'm sure you'll be glad to know that I'm still with SG-1, for all your political wheeling and dealing."

"Pardon? You were specifically not allowed to request to join SG-1!"

"Ah," Jac waved her pistol at the upset older man. "It seems you didn't plan on Carter asking for me _in particular_ to join the team."

Kinsey went red in the face and growled. "That's neither here nor there right now, _O'Neill_."

Jac crowed at being able to gain an advantage over the man.

"You may question my methods, but everything I did was for God and country," snarled Kinsey.

Jac rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I'm sure trying to keep me out of the SGC was done for the good of the planet and not out of spite. Grow up, Kinsey!"

"Back to the matter at hand, _Jac_. I'm here because there are some things I just will _not_ tolerate. For The Trust to ally themselves with a foreign power against the United States of America – well, that's something I can't condone."

"Kinsey, please – spare me the diatribe. They kicked you when you were down and you want revenge – it's as simple as that. Just like your pathetic attempt to keep me out of the SGC."

"The truth is, my motives are irrelevant," sighed Kinsey, finding talking to Jac even more frustrating than when the blasted Captain had been male. "The Trust has become an imminent threat to the sovereignty of this nation. Now, what are you gonna do about it?"


	13. When the Wind Blows

THANKS: A big thank you to Karen Joy who worked hard as my Beta on this chapter. Callie Sullivan's transcripts of the series

NOTE: "~ ~" denotes dialogue spoken in Russian

xxx

**THIRTEEN: When the Wind Blows**

SGC

February 15th, 2005

1603 hrs

SG-1 were assembled for the second time that day in the briefing room on Level 27, Landry heading up the table with Daniel next to Sam and Jac seated beside Teal'c. She sat in the chair closest to Landry so that she didn't have to peer round the Jaf'fa's considerable bulk. Jac had already explained the rather strange encounter that she had had with Kinsey, deftly leaving out the bits that SG-1 weren't allowed to know that involved her gender change.

"Well, that would be a problem," sighed Daniel. "Technically the Gate's only here on loan – if the Russians decide they want it back, things could get sticky."

"Is it possible Kinsey is simply lying?" queried the Jaf'fa, looking for the simplest explanation.

"That is always possible," grumbled Jac, wanting to be at home. Being at the SGC just reminded her that she had a sword hanging over her head in the form of the hearing.

"Has he asked for anything in return for the information?" Carter was silently confused by Kinsey's decision to approach Jac, a woman that he'd never met before.

"Protection." Jac twirled a pen in her fingers.

"Makes sense," agreed Daniel, "if he doesn't co-operate, The Trust'll kill him."

Carter sat a little straighter, which told everyone at the table, except Landry who was still new to some things, that she had just had an idea. "Maybe he should co-operate. This could be our chance to get somebody on the inside — infiltrate the organization."

"What I'm curious about," began Landry, "was why Kinsey chose to approach you in the first place, Captain." Here Hank fixed the young woman with a look.

Jac shrugged, unable to tell them what they wanted to know. She wrinkled her nose in distaste at the memory of Kinsey having a go at her changed circumstances.

"Well, with three of us on base and the men on the gate more than likely willing to shoot Kinsey on sight on principle, that left Jack as the only member of SG-1 that Kinsey probably felt he could talk to – even if we all hate the man and he hates us. Perhaps Kinsey went there, to Jac's house, expecting Jack – I mean the Jack who's a General now?" suggested Daniel.

"Please. Kinsey may not have the power he once had, but surely he must know, along with anyone else connected to the SGC who has bothered to ask, that General O'Neill was transferred to Washington," Sam countered. "He still has quite a few fingers in a few pies."

"Yet we know that O'Neill was not transferred there," stated Teal'c while Jac began to fidget in her seat. "Just because _we_ were told O'Neill was sent to Washington doesn't mean that everyone is enclosed in the circle."

"Okay." Daniel held his hands up in the pause that occurred as the others parsed Teal'c's statement. "That just means Kinsey wasn't likely to be in the know and was probably mistaken in who he believed he would be talking to when he got to Colorado Springs. But it still doesn't explain why Kinsey decided to tell Jac here once he realized his mistake."

The Jaf'fa looked at Jac with a calculating eye. "Perhaps Kinsey thought he had some leverage over CaptainO'Neill."

"Like what?" asked Landry sharply. Having a spy planted in his facility grated on his very being, even if it was a plant put there by his own government in order to hide someone, but having that plant possibly prove to be a security liability was even worse.

"Like the fact that the identity of Captain Jacqueline O'Neill is a cover," said Sam, causing Jac to start in her seat and cast her eyes across the watching face. Carter hadn't wanted to do it, since the team of four had begun to bond quite well, but she felt that the issue was better dealt with openly rather than left to fester and end up coming out at the wrong time. The last thing Captain O'Neill needed after this hearing that was going on, was being accused in the heat of the moment of being a plant.

"Calm down, Captain," ordered General Landry. "We've accepted for some time that your position as a niece of General O'Neill is nothing more than a cover, even if we hadn't voiced such knowledge up to now. None of us know who you were before you came here, or why you have been placed with the SGC, and Hammond has advised us to stay away from the issue lest we drawn attention to you."

Jac's slight panic attack that had been building began to drain away as she relaxed in her seat. She still felt she would have been better off simply putting a bullet in Kinsey and burying him in her backyard. At least that way she might have had a quiet evening.

"Kinsey does know something," she finally acknowledged to the rest of those at the table, her eyes not lifting up from the black surface, "but nothing incriminating, nothing that would compromise the security of the base. It is just a little secret from my past. He took great pleasure in rubbing my face in the fact that he knew what it was.

I guess he considered that enough incentive for me not to shoot him and instead hear him out."

"Will I get to learn of this, Captain?"

Jac had to shake her head at Landry's question. "Not unless General Hammond and the Joint Chiefs decide otherwise."

That wasn't the answer that Hank had wanted to hear.

February 16th, 2005

0705 hrs

The result of the meeting was for Kinsey to be kept in secure confinement till something could be put in motion to find out exactly what The Trust were up to. Jac had returned home feeling somewhat exposed after the revelations at the meeting— SG-1 had known she was a shadow. She knew that Daniel had known that Jack was an only child and thus wouldn't have a niece, but when the young man hadn't questioned her existence, she had felt comfortable and written it off as Daniel forgetting that titbit of information. Obviously she had been well off target, SG-1 not only knowing that piece of information but also acting on and investigating to the point that General Hammond had had to step in and put an end to the matter with an unofficial 'leave it alone'.

All of this swirling through her head in addition to the concern over the hearing meant that Jac got very little rest that night and woke the following morning in a less than stellar mood. It had put her out enough that she had sought out Hammond on the base and cornered him in his temporary quarters when he had answered the door.

"Just what the hell went on that meeting of the Joint Chiefs," Jac thundered once the door had closed behind her, adding at the last minute, "_Sir_?"

"Captain?"

"You know which one I'm talking about, _George_. The one when I got stuck with Jacqueline for a first name, the one that Kinsey just happened to be attending!"

"Ah." Understanding had dawned on Hammond's face and he gestured for Jac to take a seat. She refused and George sat down by himself. "I'd been meaning to talk to you when there was a spare moment, Jac, just to find out how you were getting on."

"Just peachy, Sir. Kinsey knows my dirty little secret, and I'm up on mutiny charges. It's all fun and games for me right now!"

Hammond rubbed his brow in irritation. Jac had every right to be livid at the thought that Kinsey knew what had happened to her on P5X-878. Jac slumped into the seat that Hammond had offered earlier, her initial head of steam blown out.

"Just tell me, Sir, how on Earth Kinsey got to know of what happened."

"That..." began George, "that is probably the most unfortunate piece of timing I have ever been witness too."

"Sir?"

"I know that to the world at large it looks like Kinsey crawled back under whatever rock he came out from after Hayes ditched him. His opinions during Anubis' attack on Earth were enough for Hayes to see the back of him, even if his political backstabbing hadn't been so obvious.

While Kinsey may have lost a lot of support since then, he hasn't been totally out of the loop and still heads up many different committees. One of which was presenting a petition to the Joint Chiefs that evening, and Kinsey was the one doing the presenting."

"So he was there when your phone call came through?"

Hammond nodded. "No one asked for Kinsey to attend _that_ meeting. It was just bad timing that he was already present."

"And no one thought it was a good idea to perhaps throw the man out of the room once the nature of your call was established?"

"As I said, Kinsey may not _look_ like he has much support these days, but in his position on the Oversight Committee he was able to dig up a lot of dirt on various people. Enough leverage to avoid being ejected from the room once he learned of your predicament."

Jac sighed, wanting to remain angry at the world but far too tired and weary to have the energy to continue. "He told me himself that it was he who forced the issue that led to SG-1 being out of the loop."

"That's true. He took the 'waste of resources' route, arguing that SG-1 would spend their time trying to reverse what has happened to you rather than what they are paid to do. Hayes and I were forced to concede to that demand in order to get our own."

"Letting me stay a part of the SGC " The Lieutenant General nodded at Jac's assertion.

"Look, Jac, I'm sorry it all came out this way. I'm sure having Kinsey taunt you about this was probably the _worst_ way you could have discovered that he knew the truth."

"Apology accepted, Sir."

There was a pregnant pause, although Jac wouldn't have described it as that.

"Does Kinsey have any more leverage?" Jac finally asked after the silence. "Will he use this against me?"

"If what you tell me about The Trust is true," mused Hammond, "then Kinsey may not have much leverage left to him now if he was forced to come to us for protection."

Jac didn't say anything to that.

"He may get desperate, but at this stage I can't see what he could possibly do with what he knows about you."

0813 hrs

Kinsey sat in his chair in the room he'd been assigned with a look of incredulity on his face. "You want me to wear a wire?"

Teal'c stood over the white-haired man

"I am not a spy!"

The Jaf'fa simply looked on impassively, never wavering in his gaze.

"You'd let them kill me?" cried Kinsey, his mind leaping to conclusions based on Teal'c's expression. "Well, that's as good as pulling the trigger yourself! I thought Stargate Command didn't do that sort of thing."

The eyebrow went up.

1230 hrs

It was lunchtime and the hearing to determine her fate as a part of the SGC and the Air Force was currently in recess till the later afternoon. Not that Jac's mind been engaged in thinking about the hearing at all, Lieutenant Forrester noting the distracted air of his client during the morning session. However, because it was his turn to address the panel of judges and put forward O'Neill's side of the story, he had been unable to call her on it. Thus for Jac the morning had been a blur of rumbling male voices in the hearing room, her thoughts entirely consumed by the growing international problems with Russia and the operation that the rest of SG-1 were involving themselves in with Kinsey.

Jac had to stop herself from snapping her plastic spork in two as she found herself hating the older man with a vengeance. She didn't really notice the food she was busy shovelling into her mouth, her mind working furiously in two different directions. Jac was furiously trying to work out just how she could convince Landry to let her help SG-1 while at the same time attempt to curb the violent impulse to beat Kinsey to death with his annoying smile. Unfortunately, at this stage SG-1 was simply involved in surveillance somewhere as Kinsey met with his blackmailers and she was sure that physically injuring Kinsey would blow her hearing chances out of the water.

This meant that if she wanted to help SG-1 it had to be in some other capacity and the problems with Russia might be the best place to start. She had at least what she considered a working understanding of Russian, even if as Jack she had chosen not to display it. Having a hidden talent, like languages, came in handy from time to time, like being trapped in an off-world tomb with a bunch of Russians and an upset parasite. Dismissing past escapades with a rueful grin Jac focused on what she could do with her knowledge of Russian right now that might allow her to aid SG-1 and spend less time dying of boredom in the hearing.

Mind made up, Jac abandoned the remains of her lunch and went in search of General Landry to make her case. She found him in his office working through a mountain of tedious paperwork while he waited for SG-1 to report in from their surveillance mission with Kinsey.

"Sir?"

"Captain O'Neill," replied Landry as he looked up with a wary twinkle in his eye. The Captain may have been an only newly blooded member of SG-1 with one mission under her belt, but that didn't meant that whatever was coming next was going to be anything mundane. "To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit to my humble office?"

Jac would have scowled in annoyance at the cynical tone of her commanding officer if two small matters hadn't been in the way: that he _was_ her commanding officer and thus deserved the respect of said position, and that scowling at him certainly wasn't going to help her while she pleaded her case. So, rather than following the first option of scowling, Jac simply sat in the chair Landry was offering her and took a settling breath.

"Sir, I'd like to help in some capacity with the mission that SG-1 is currently undertaking."

General Landry leaned back in his seat, merely to relax as the Captain's request hardly surprised him. Wanting to take part in said mission whilst under the cloud of suspicion that was the hearing was simply a very typical SG-1 reaction.

"Understood. And just how would you like to be of use to the mission?"

"I'm not asking to be released to work alongside the rest of SG-1 as they go wherever Kinsey chooses to lead them, Sir, but instead I would like to be involved in dealing with the current rumblings in Russia."

Hank's mouth flattened into a thin line and he fixed the young woman with a penetrating stare, unaware that Jac had seen Landry's 'look of doom' before and was able to shrug it off lightly. A wrinkle formed in the middle of Landry's forehead as Jac waited silently in her chair. Jack hadn't much in terms of patience and from the time that she had become Jac she had only gained a little more of the precious commodity. Jack would have snapped by now and Jac was only holding on by fixing her eyes on the trinkets in the case behind Landry's head and counting to herself.

Finger stabbing at the intercom on his desk, Landry asked Walter to bring through Captain O'Neill's personnel file while at the same time he fished out the latest information on the Russian situation and opened that folder on his desk. Jac meanwhile tried very hard to prevent a smile from tugging at the corners of her mouth at the first sign that Landry might just acquiesce to her request.

"The deal with the Russians is not something I'd like to throw a relatively new member of the SGC into, no matter what she has survived in the past month or so. What exactly is it that you think that you can offer to help with the situation?"

SGC

1604 hrs

Jac reached the briefing room mere moments after the rest of SG-1 had shuffled in, newly arrived from their surveillance mission with Kinsey. Landry had given her a look to suggest that he wasn't too happy about her attending, having already voiced his belief that she should focus on the hearing instead. O'Neill had simply shrugged off the look and taken a seat, eager to hear just what had happened. The lack of a Kinsey floating into the room behind SG-1 pricked her imagination, but she was sure that Carter was hardly going to announce to General Landry that she had shot the ex-Vice President merely to get him to quit whining.

Instead, Colonel Carter had explained just how the mission had unfolded, right down to the jamming at the last minute and the sudden disappearance of all those involved which she and the rest of the team felt indicated some kind of ship involved with teleportation capabilities.

"If the al'kesh is in orbit, they must have fixed the cloak because SSN hasn't picked them up," Sam concluded, watching for Landry's reaction carefully.

"What about the locator beacons?" queried Daniel.

"We're running a search through the NSA satellite system, but all they'd have to do to avoid detection is change the frequency. Odds are we're not gonna find anything."

Hank gave a curt nod to this. "The Pentagon has been apprised of the situation. They're launching _Prometheus_ in about four hours." Landry pointed to Teal'c. "You will be on board. There's a C-17 waiting for you at Peterson."

"Understood."

Standing, Teal'c moved to where Jac was sitting and whispered a word or two of encouragement in her ear before quitting the room completely to do as ordered by Landry.

Carter picked up the thread of the briefing once more. "Sir, I've been going over the sensor logs from the last encounter between _Prometheus_ and the al'kesh. There were a few small anomalies emanating from the ship's position before it decloaked. They didn't register because we didn't know to look for them, but I could create a program that would key the sensors to those particular readings."

Jac watched the briefing with interest, but couldn't see where she might be able to help. Spending another few days sitting in on the hearing where three men would decide her fate, whether she was there or not, was going to drive her round the bend very quickly. She needed a problem to take her mind off her situation and this one would do nicely. If only she could see a way to get Landry to let her participate. Her meeting with him after lunch had not netted her any concessions from the General. He'd listened to her plea and then told her to wait for a decision. Jack had used that stalling tactic himself, and thus Jac knew that Landry was most likely to come back with a 'no'.

"So, we'd be able to detect a cloaked ship?" There was Daniel again with the question.

"Well, it's not that simple," admitted Carter. "These anomalies are very difficult to detect. It might have just been a fluke that we picked them up the first time. The effect is also mimicked by certain types of cosmic radiation, but I still think it might improve our odds."

"So, instead of a million to one..."

"...maybe ten thousand to one." Jac said, finishing Daniel's sentence.

"Improved, then," said Daniel with a wry shake of his head to show he wasn't totally sold on usefulness of the program suggested by Carter if the odds were still that remote.

Jac made a gesture with her hands to show that it was better than nothing.

"I'll need a few hours to create the program," Sam said to the General with a questioning lilt.

"You have a go, Colonel," replied Landry, dismissing Carter from the briefing room and discussion.

Once she was gone Landry swung his gaze back to the remaining two seated at the table.

"As for you Doctor Jackson..."

"I have to pick up my dry cleaning," Daniel said in an attempt at humour. Landry's face was stony, but the quip got a small grin from Captain O'Neill who sat across from the table from him.

Playing with his collar, Daniel apologized to the General for the flippant remark. Landry waved him off, "I understand, Jackson, I do. If it were any other time, I might have laughed. Being a General doesn't mean I've automatically had a humour by-pass. However, the current international situation with Russia is no laughing matter. That is why you and the Captain here will be on a flight to Moscow in half an hour."

"I am? Ah, we are?"

"Yes, the pair of you are. Colonel Chekov's people will meet you there. Will you please try to find out what the hell is going on? And if you get a chance, talk to this General Kiselev."

"Sir, they know we're on to them—they may just abort the mission," argued Daniel as he threw a glance at Captain O'Neill. He was wondering just why Landry was sending her with him, especially since she was in the middle of a hearing.

"I don't think so, Doctor Jackson. Not from the way Kinsey was talking."

"And what if he won't co-operate with them?"

"Kinsey'll do what's best for Kinsey," interjected Jac, effectively ending the debate.

After that, Landry hurried from the room to deal with pressing diplomatic issues that were beginning to arise as the Russian situation grew ever direr. Daniel meanwhile simply turned in his seat and gave Jac an appraising look.

"And just why are you coming with me to Moscow?"

"I'm as surprised as you are that I'm going," Jac answered truthfully, having been convinced that Landry was going to turn down her request to be involved.

"That doesn't answer my question, Jac."

"Well," huffed the Captain, "I do know a smattering of Russian and you might find it reassuring to have a bodyguard who is a trained Air Force officer."

"And that is why you are coming with me?" Daniel played with his glasses as they rested on his face. "Forgive me for pointing this out, but aren't you currently in the middle of a hearing right now?"

Jac shrugged as she stood. "In reality, Daniel, I'm superfluous to the hearing. They don't really need me there to render a decision, and obviously General Landry believes that I'll be of more use being next to you than stalking the corridors of the SGC in a bad mood."

With a quick smile Jac flounced out of the room to leave a bemused Daniel staring after her.

Kremlin, Moscow

1545 hrs

Daniel stalked ahead of Jac as they made their way through the throngs of agitated people that filled the corridors of the Russian ministry. Daniel had decided to put his best foot forward and wore what Jac had come to think of as his 'negotiating suit' as opposed to the slightly scruffier 'jobbing archaeologist' clothes that the older man usually preferred to wear. Actually, from her position a few steps behind Daniel, Jac could see that her teammate was wearing something that flattered his figure. She could appreciate the trim figure Daniel had and the way the suit pulled against his body every so often to define the muscles he'd obtained through his membership of SG-1 and the perils encountered in such a position.

Those thoughts caused Jac to almost stumble in her footsteps, a mental 'Ewww' floating in the front of her mind as she realized just where her subconscious had been leading her. Damn Teal'c and his flirting comment in the bar! Still, the consummate Air Force member in Jac allowed her to maintain her smooth gait and not fall in a tumble of Daniel-centred hormonal chaos.

Jac herself meanwhile was a victim of regulations, kitted out in her dress blues that she hadn't worn since visiting the SGC for her medical evaluation some time ago. She was used to the skirt by now, Sara having done a magnificent job of breaking down all her 'body image' barriers during the times she had stayed with the older woman. The only twinge that obtruded now was the stray thought that she was now wearing the same ensemble that she had 'admired' Sam in a few times over the years.

The pair reached the office they had been direct to find a small room occupied by a woman with her back to them. Daniel politely tapped on the door to attract the woman's attention and Jac rolled her eyes behind him. Sometimes Daniel was just too polite. Jac had years of experience with the Russian military mindset and Daniel's softly, softly approach wasn't going to win them much support.

"Hi," tried Daniel in his best 'don't shot me I'm a nice guy-voice', "we're here to see Captain Voronokov."

The woman turned to apprise the pair of Americans before her and raised an eyebrow. She caught the woman's eye and could see the American female slapping her forehead in an exaggerated manner. Daniel meanwhile was sure he'd heard someone say 'D'oh', but when he turned to look at Jac, she simply looked back at him with a small but bland smile.

"There is no Captain Voronokov here," the Russian woman said, winking at Jac while Daniel had turned his head.

"Oh! That's strange – the, uh, guy down the hall said—"

"I am Captain Voronoko_va_. _Daria_ Voronoko_va_," the Russian Captain announced as she introduced herself by shaking hands with Daniel. "You must be Daniel Jackson."

"Yeah. I'm sorry – I was told I would be meeting Colonel Chekov's right-hand man, so naturally I—"

Jac smirked. Daniel wasn't a very good toadeater.

"For my part, I expected a drab, pasty-faced, middle-aged academic. I too am pleasantly surprised," Voronokova rather brutally stated before turning to shake hands with Jac in a more pleasant manner. "A pleasure to meet you Captain O'Neill. It is always nice to meet sensible people. Most of the people I have to deal with in this job are unfortunately male."

"Oh! Uh, your English is excellent," attempted Daniel in order to try and get on the Russian Captain's good side after such a misstep.

"~Thank you~. And how is your Russian?"

"~Although I don't get the opportunity to practice much, I'm conversational. I suppose I can get by.~" Daniel finished with a smile and the hope that he had impressed her.

Jac sniggered in the background as she shared another look with her Russian opposite.

"...okay, we stick to English, then," was the response Daniel received for his efforts, which wiped off the smile he plastered onto his face and caused Jac to hold a hand to her mouth and nose as she sniggered once more in amusement.

"I will be your guide," continued Daria as if she hadn't noticed Jac's lapse in manners, "whatever you wish to do while you are in Moscow, you will ask me first – I will take care of it. If you desire to meet with anyone, I will arrange it for you. If you go out on your own, I cannot protect you. Lie to me, or attempt to mislead me, and I will not protect you."

Daniel 'okayed' this emphatically and Jac resorted to a simple nod in order to give herself more time to rein in her laughter.

"Have you eaten a proper lunch?"

"We had something on the plane."

Voronokova gave Daniel another 'you are a simpleton look'. "Then the answer is no. Good. I know a restaurant around the corner that serves the best salo in Moscow."

"Oh, I'm not a big fan of salo," Daniel blurted out.

"Don't worry–you will acquire taste," she said knowingly as she led the Americans from her office.

It was now late afternoon, after a rushed lunch during which both Daria and Jac had played Daniel like a puppet and tricked him into eating salo while they ate something less 'interesting' the trio were making their way along the outskirts of Moscow in search of answers. Daria was at the wheel of the Russian jeep they had commandeered.

"So, where exactly are we going?" Daniel was all curiosity and in desperate need for them to stop somewhere so that he could by a drink to rid his mouth of the taste of salo.

"You wish to meet with General Kiselev, ~yes~?" Daria was favouring Daniel with that 'idiot' look again. "That is where we are going."

"You must be pretty well connected to get in to see him this quickly," stated Jac, to which the Captain simply smiled and shrugged. Despite Daniel's diplomatic fumbling, the two military women had struck up a tentative friendship. Jac pressed on, "What do you know about him?"

Captain Voronokova summed up what she knew of the man, to which Daniel simply made a sarcastic remark to illustrate that she knew more than having simply heard of him.

"He's a little suspicious of American global influence and highly critical of what he calls 'NATO expansion plans'," continued Daria. "You may not receive a very warm welcome."

Voronokova brought the jeep around a corner to find a Russian Army lorry was blocking the road she'd planned to use. Soldiers was raised weapons awaited them and Daria was forced to slam the brakes on as she cursed and swore under her breath. The trio was quickly forced to abandon their jeep, Jac and Daniel trailing after the Russian Captain as she made her way to who was obviously the commanding officer.

With a quick salute, she addressed the man. Colonel Chernovshev squinted at the two over Daria's shoulder, "~Are they the Americans who wish to see General Kiselev?~" When she indicated that they were the Colonel ordered his men to take Daniel and Jac for questioning, his troops readily complying with his commands and seizing the pair by their arms.

"What's goin' on?" tried a bewildered Daniel.

"I don't know," Voronokova replied before turning back to her superior officer. "~Sir, may I ask what this is about?~"

She got a simple 'no' for her efforts and watched as Daniel and Jac were herded onto the back of the lorry. "Don't worry," she called out to them. "I'll find out what's happening."

There followed an interminable ride that ended with the two captured SG-1 members being frog-marched into what seemed like a very old mansion. Daniel wanted to stop an observe the architecture in order to determine if it was a pre-Revolution survivor or a post-Communism knockoff made by someone who had become rich as Capitalism had spread through the remnants of the U.S.S.R., but his captors had other ideas. He and Jac were led into what was some kind of lounge, and forcibly deposited into seats at a large dining table.

Colonel Chernovshev and a doctor wearing a white coat soon joined them. "Doctor Jackson, Captain O'Neill, sorry to keep you waiting."

"No problem," Daniel said were affected casualness. "You wanna tell me what's going on?"

"All in good time. Please, roll up your sleeves. We need a sample of your blood."

Jac gave the two Russian a flat stare. "You're kidding?"

"Either you co-operate or we will take it by force." The Colonel's voice allowed for no resistance to the request.

As the pair of SGC personnel rolled up the sleeves of their left arms, both Daniel and Jac having to shed their jackets first in order to do so, Daniel carried on with what he thought was a light tone of voice. "Is this a normal part of your interrogation procedure?"

"Depends what you wish to know. In this case, it will answer a very specific question."

"What question?" Jac asked as she was jabbed. The doctor then moved to Daniel and obtained more job satisfaction with the archaeologist as he yelped in pair as opposed to the Air Force officer's indifference. Jac still hated needles, but wasn't going to give the Russians the pleasure of seeing her pain and had instead swallowed the agony with the merest of winces.

Chernovshev dismissed the Doctor with his fresh blood samples.

"What's going on?"

"Why do you wish to see General Kiselev?" the Colonel replied with a question of his own.

Daniel scowled at the question to his question. "It's complicated."

"Surely you can explain it to me."

"I think I'd rather explain it to General Kiselev."

Jac sighed at the male posturing. At least when she acted like this now people didn't chalk it up to testosterone.

The Colonel refused to budge. "That's not going to happen. You see, earlier today we managed to uncover a plot against the general's life. Luckily we captured the assassin before he could make his move." Here the Russian officer picked up a remote control and turned on the television monitor placed close to the dining table. "I believe you know him."

"Kinsey," groaned Jac when she recognized the male shown in the stilled video footage on the monitor. She'd would recognize him anywhere, even if on this occasion he was dressed in a beige jump-suit and chained by his wrists.

"Robert Kinsey, former Vice President of the United States of America."

"That's insane – why would Kinsey want to kill General Kiselev?" Daniel vocalized, trying to puzzle out exactly what was going on.

"I'm afraid Mister Kinsey isn't exactly himself these days."

The room was quiet as the paused video tape spooled to show Kinsey announcing the destruction of the planet while his eyes glowed and his voice was distorted in true Goa'uld possession-style.

"Now you begin to appreciate the gravity of the situation," summed up the Colonel.

From there the day had stalled until eventually Captain Voronokova managed to obtain the release of Daniel and Jac. It was quite late in the evening that the pair returned to the Kremlin building in Moscow, having already passed what they had learnt onto Landry back at the SGC.

"Thank you for getting us out of there," Jac was saying as the three returned to the Russian Captain's office.

"It wasn't easy," Daria explained. "Even after your blood tests came back negative, they still wanted to hold both of you."

"Yeah, not a lot of trust and goodwill to spare right now, I guess," agreed Daniel. "Listen—I need to talk to the Goa'uld."

Daria gave a curt Russian 'no' to the request.

"You have to get us in to see Kinsey."

"Impossible."

Jac pitched in to help Daniel, hoping the newly forged friendship with Daria might have some weight. "If we're gonna figure out what's going on here, we have to question him."

"He is being questioned, by Russian military intelligence."

"Yes, and he's feeding them a pack of lies. He's telling them the American administration has been infiltrated 'cos he wants to force a confrontation."

"To what end?" asked Daria after listening to Daniel's interpretation of events.

"I don't know – that's why I'll need to talk to him."

Daria swore and rolled her eyes.

"Language!" admonished Daniel, causing her to give him another 'look'.

"Daria, please," tried Jac.

With a sigh the Russian Captain replied, "I'll see what I can do. In the meantime, stay here."

A cup of coffee later Voronokova returned and took Daniel and Jac to the detention cell that the Goa'uld possessed Kinsey was being held. Once there Daria sent the guards away while Jac coolly surveyed the chained Kinsey. The door to the detention cell closed and Daniel strode forward to look Kinsey in the eyes. "So, what should I call you?"

**You are unworthy to speak my name.**

"Maybe. So I'm guessing you work for the System Lords, am I right? I know you're not working for Ba'al – he's too busy conquering the galaxy to bother with an unimportant planet like Earth. Gotta hand it to you, though – your territories are falling one by one, your troops are in full retreat, and yet you still find the time to come and try and destroy little old us. The question is, why?"

As Daniel spoke, Jac slowly circled the room, reaching a point behind the seated Goa'uld and directly opposite Daniel. The archaeologist meanwhile plowed on after receiving now response to his suppositions. "Captain Voronokova thinks it's, uh, a petty need for revenge for all the trouble we've caused you over the years – sort of a last-ditch attempt to take us with you before Ba'al finishes you off. I told her, the System Lords aren't that pathetic – are they?"

**You are the one who is pathetic. You will die never knowing our true purpose.**

"So there is a hidden agenda?" asked Daniel with a tired grin. "Making progress now, aren't we?"

Daniel rolled his shoulders in order to work out some of the kinks and wished for another strong cup of coffee. "Y'know, I'm sure if we put our heads together we could come up with a dozen reasons why you'd want to wipe us out – the most important being the Ancient weapon that you know we possess. I'm sure the System Lords think that if they can get us to wipe ourselves out, they can just step right in and take it. They're probably right, but what I don't understand is you. Why are you so willing to sacrifice yourself?"

**I assure you, I have no intention of dying on this miserable planet.**

"You're in Russian Defense headquarters – a primary target. If you do succeed in starting a nuclear war, you're gonna die right along with the rest of us. Unless there's something I'm missing."

Kinsey's face twisted into a smug grin. **You should return to your homes and say farewell to your loved ones. Your gods have deemed you unworthy, and the hour of reckoning is at hand.**

"C'mon!" exclaimed Jac, finally drawing attention to herself as she completed her circuit of the cell. "Next to slaughtering innocents, gloating is what you guys are all about! It must be just killing you just sitting there not bragging about your brilliant plan."

At that point, Daria's pager went off. "We have to get out of here now."

**I know all that Kinsey knew, O'Neill. Shall I tell Doctor Jackson your secrets?**

Daniel was only half listening to what the Goa'uld was saying as he turned to Daria. "Why, what is it?"

"They're coming for us."

"Who?"

**Shall I tell him who you truly are? Will he continue to trust you then?** the Goa'uld continued in an attempt to bait Jac into saying something.

Angry voices were heard outside the door and the Goa'uld seemed to realize what was going on. He turned his gaze back to Daniel. **You are too late.**

A soldier entered the room and began to argue with Voronokova while Jac and Daniel, after a nod to each other across the room, pulled out small devices from their pockets and activated them. Daniel moved behind the now standing Kinsey and put a hand on the Goa'uld's shoulder. More soldiers swarmed the room, this time with weapons raised to fire.

"Sorry, guys, gotta go," quipped Daniel.

As the guards open fire, Daniel, Jac, and Kinsey were transported out of the room.

Prometheus

2107 hrs

The Goa'uld found the shol'va Teal'c pushing a zat gun into his face once the transportation was over. **What is the meaning of this?**

The commanding officer of the ship, Prendergast, stepped forward and shook Daniel and Jac's hands. "Doctor Jackson, Captain O'Neill, welcome aboard the Prometheus."

"Any luck finding the al'kesh?" asked Jac.

"None," summarized Teal'c in his usual efficient manner

Prendergast looked at Kinsey. "Maybe he can help us."

**I think not.**

"If you do not co-operate, I will kill you." No one on the bridge had any doubts that Teal'c wouldn't be able to go through with his threat.

**Don't you realize what you have done? The Russians already suspect that you have been compromised by the Goa'uld. As far as they know, you helped me to escape. You've done more to convince them than I ever could. The Russians will no doubt view my abduction as an attempt to hide evidence that your government has been infiltrated by the Goa'uld. You have no choice but to return me immediately.**

"Yeah. See, that's the part I don't understand. The whole time you were down there, you were doing your best to start a nuclear war even though you were right in the line of fire. Now you wanna go back?" Daniel gave Kinsey a penetrating look.

Jac meanwhile studied the Goa'uld as she had done in the detention cell, still unable to determine whether a Goa'uld possessed Kinsey was better or worse than a regular Kinsey.

"He has a way out," Prendergast said when the Goa'uld looked away from Daniel.

"He knows someone on the inside—someone who can protect him," mused Daniel.

Taking a step closer to Kinsey and raising the zat he held, Teal'c demanded the name of who was protecting him.

**I have nothing more to say to you.**

Prendergast ordered Kinsey be taken to the brig and the Goa'uld was soon gone from their midst. The commander of the ship then turned his attention back to the search for the cloaked al'kesh, leaving Daniel and Jac standing together near the main window and at something of a loose end. Daniel took a step closer to Jac so that their noses were almost touching. "What did the Goa'uld mean when he said I might not trust you if I knew who you truly were?"

"Drop it, Daniel," warned Jac, not in the mood for another interrogation so soon after the roughing up from the Russians, let alone one that would dig painfully into her false background and throw up things she wasn't sure she and SG-1 were ready to deal with.

Teal'c meanwhile had listened quietly to the exchange and favoured Jac with a meaningful glance of his own. Whether or not Daniel would have dropped the question because of Jac's warning became a moot point when he _Prometheus_ was suddenly rocked under weapons fire.

"What the hell was that?" shouted Daniel.

"We're under attack," exclaimed the Comm. Officer.

Prendergast ordered the shields to be raised as another volley struck the ship. "Shields are down to forty percent; we've lost starboard engines," was the prognosis from the Comm.

"Transfer power to port engines; give me evasive manoeuvres," yelled Prendergast. "Bring all weapon batteries online."

A voice was then heard over the internal communications system. "Bridge—this is Sergeant Larson."

"Go ahead," spat Prendergast as he furiously went through his current options.

"I'm sorry, Sir, the prisoner escaped."

Teal'c looked to Daniel and Jac. "The ring room," he stated baldly and the three ran from the bridge.

It didn't take long for the trip to find the amok Goa'uld, Teal'c quickly engaging in a firefight with Kinsey. The Goa'uld then made a break for it, Daniel, Teal'c, and Jac reaching the ring room just in time to find they were too late to stop the ex-Vice President from escaping the ship.

"Crap!" exclaimed Daniel with some passion. Teal'c and Jac could only agree with the sentiment.

By the time they had returned to the bridge, the _Prometheus_ shaking under another blow, Prendergast had the ship coming about and preparing to fire. As the Earth ship slipped into position Prendergast issued the command and the _Prometheus_ rained destruction down on the al'kesh.

The Comm Officer looked to Prendergast. "Sir, the al'kesh is no longer making evasive manoeuvres or returning fire. We have a clear shot."

"Stand by," muttered Prendergast.

"They're powering weapons."

"Take them out."

With that, the_ Prometheus_ fired two missiles at the al'kesh and it shattered in an explosion, the light from which cause those watching on the bridge to flinch slightly at the brightness. In the following silence the Comm Officer could be heard to say, "Target destroyed."

SGC

February 17th, 2005

1113 hrs

It was only a half-day later after a good night of sleep and the fallout from the Russian situation was beginning to be felt. While the world had stepped away from the brink of possible outright war and the diplomats were now able to make some headway in smoothing ruffled feathers on both sides, there were other repercussions of a more personal nature to had. One of which was sitting across from Jac in the small briefing room that had been him for the duration of the hearing.

"Pardon?" was all Jac cold manage in light of what she had just been told.

"The hearing has been dismissed. I'd like to say it was because of my impassioned opening speech yesterday morning, the one you looked like you weren't paying any attention to," explained Forrester to a sheepish looking Captain O'Neill, "but I'd be lying."

"So what caused the dismissal?"

"I've no idea. All I can tell you is that the three Generals leading the hearing were contacted early this morning by the prosecution who indicated that Munro was withdrawing his case."

Lieutenant Forrester certainly looked as bemused at the sudden about turn of the prosecution as his words suggested. Knowing that she wasn't likely to get anything of further use from the JAG, Jac politely thanked the man for the sterling work he'd already put into the case on her behalf and apologized for her distraction during his opening speech of the previous day. Samuel Forrester took the thanks sincerely and with a little affected casualness before neatly segueing into asking the SGC Captain if she'd like to join him for coffee in the commissary.

Jac almost found herself agreeing to do so before Sara's hard won crash course in dealing with the opposite sex, 'Flirting with Men for Dummies 101', kicked in and the young Captain managed to deftly let the eager and smiling Lieutenant down without bruising his ego. The pair was then able to part amicably and Jac was left standing on her own, eyes heavenward as she thanked whoever was out there watching over her. She also mentally reminded herself to phone Sara that evening and thank her all over again for her patient tutelage.

With a step a little lighter than it had been since the announcement of the hearing, Jac went in search of General Hammond who due to the sudden cessation of the hearing would most likely still be on the base. She had a question or two for the older man about why Munro might have suddenly changed his mind about prosecuting her over the death of Major Killian.

She found George in the process of packing for his departure and closed the door behind her so that they could have a frank discussion away from any ears that might be listening.

"Jac, I had a feeling you might pop by to visit me before I left."

"Well, knowing you, Sir, I thought that getting back to your grandkids as soon as possible would be your top priority."

Hammond chuckled as he placed another pair of folded trousers into his suitcase and threw an eye over the room to see if he'd missed any other clothing. "So, I'm sure you a bursting with questions at this point. Shall I just start talking or do you want to know something in particular, Jac?"

Jac couldn't help but smiled back at the General's teasing grin. She perched herself on the end of the bed and fixed her gaze on Hammond. "My lawyer just informed me that the hearing has been dismissed and the case against me dropped. I was wondering if you had anything to do with that, Sir?"

"While I'm heartened by your faith in me, Jac," Hammond began as he closed and secured his suitcase before stacking it by the door to be collected, "I had nothing to do with Colonel Munro dropping his suit against you."

"Really?" Jac was all surprise. "So, who do I have to thank?"

"That _honour_ belongs to the now very dead, ex-Vice President and Goa'uld host Kinsey."

"Kinsey! Kinsey worked to have the case dropped?" Jac wasn't sure quite what she was supposed to feel after hearing that. After all, she'd invested quite a bit of energy into hating the man.

George sat down on the bed close, but not uncomfortably close to Jac. "You've the wrong end of the stick there, Jac. As far as I can tell, I think Kinsey had his nose put out of joint over Hayes and myself managing to retain you as part of the SGC, even if we lost out over informing SG-1 of the truth. So, in retaliation he looked for some way to have you removed from the SGC and it seems he found a willing ear in Colonel Munro."

Jac had quickly put the pieces together in her mind. Munro had been pushing the case with a strange fervour that couldn't all be racked up to jealousy over noting the second-in-command of the SGC, and George's revelation made sense. Now that Kinsey was gone, in a fiery ball of exploding al'kesh, Colonel Munro now found himself without a powerful backer.

"No wonder Munro folded quicker than a pack of cards," observed Jac.

Hammond snorted. "Never did like the fellow myself, and this smacks of a self-serving behaviour I'm not entirely too happy with. I may have a word or two with Hank about it before I depart."

"Will nothing official be done?"

Here the General took to watching the wall for a moment or two. "Unfortunately what I've just told is currently unprovable. We've nothing definite to link Munro and Kinsey other than his dropping the case immediately after the latter's death. And with Kinsey gone and Munro shut up tighter than a clam we'll probably never know the truth." George sighed and turned to look at Jac. "I think we're better off just putting the whole thing behind us and moving on. I know I've certainly got better things to think about than Munro or Kinsey."

"Well said, Sir."

Jac stood up and brushed down the skirt of her dress blues that she had put on before learning of the cancellation of the morning session for the hearing.

"I was about to head off to the commissary to celebrate the victory."

"Which one, Kinsey or Munro?"

"Does it matter?" grinned Jac. "I hear they have cake."

1134 hrs

"And I got the distinct impression that Jac and Captain Voronokova were having a joke at my expense behind my back," Daniel was complaining as he sat on a stool in Sam's lab as he watched his team mate playing with the deactivated Ancient device that had caused them both some many problems only a short while ago.

"Hmm," replied Sam as she consulted her laptop.

"Are you listening to what I am telling you?"

Sam straightened up and turned her head so that she could look at Daniel. "I'm listening. You were busy expounding on the fact that two young women may have been gossiping and giggling about you. Was the fact that women still find you attractive that disturbing to you?"

Daniel didn't know how to answer that and so ignored it. "I'm just not sure if I'm comfortable with having a teammate potentially mooning over me while we go on missions off world."

As soon as the words were out of his mouth Daniel saw Sam stiffen in her seat and realized that he'd just painted a verbal picture of Jack and Sam's work relationship up to the point where she had begun dating Pete. "I'm sorry, Sam. I spoke without thinking again."

"It's all right, Daniel. You only reminded me of the unfinished business that remains with Jack."

There was an awkward silence.

"So, ah, anyway," Daniel began clumsily, "I thought I'd see General Landry this afternoon and pitch the idea of SG-1 making a trip to P9X-124 on Monday."

"Will that allow us to get there before Ba'al does?" asked Sam, happy to have the conversation steered away from the topic of her love life.

Daniel nodded. "Although Teal'c is convinced that the installation that we are looking for is on P5X-878."

"He does still to be hanging onto that idea like a dog with a bone."

There was another silent pause before Daniel began speaking again. "Do you think Teal'c has been acting a little strange lately?"

"How so?"

Digging his hands into his trouser pockets and going for a wander around the lab, Daniel always finding it easier to think on his feet, the archaeologist explained, "Well, his obsession with '878 for starters. I know he's missing Jack just as much as the both of us are, but he seems to think there is something more to that gate address."

Sam shrugged. "Teal'c could simply be striving to eliminate that planet from the equation. After all, most of the evidence does suggest that Jack is on Earth as we've reason to believe he was brought back through the gate."

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Daniel nodded in agreement with what Sam had said. "That's not the only thing however. He's been watching Jac far more closely since we came back from P9X-045 after meeting Maybourne again."

"Watching Jac?"

"Hmmm, he's been keeping a keen eye on her behaviour. I'm not sure what he's looking for."

Having abandoned her laptop completely Sam stretched in her seat, arching her back, and had a little laugh. Daniel was surprised by this odd reaction and asked what she found funny.

"Oh, Daniel, have you already forgotten that we know that Captain O'Neill is a plant and that her identity is a fabrication? Teal'c is probably watching her closely so that he can be sure in himself that he can trust her while we're out in the field."

"Another good point which I hadn't considered," acknowledged Daniel. "Perhaps I haven't had enough coffee this morning, since I don't seem to be quite up to speed with my thinking today."

"Well," began Sam, "I'm not going to get much more done on this device today. How about we hit the commissary and you can get your much needed caffeine fix?"

"Sounds like a plan."

Sam closed down the lid of her laptop and checked that no other dangerous equipment was still running before joining Daniel in the doorway to her lab. Together they wandered the corridors of the SGC in the direction of the commissary and were engaged in a lively debate over which one of Captains O'Neill and Voronokova Daniel would choose to date if he had only the pair of them to choose from. The two were still discussing it when they reached the end of the line and turned from the buffet to look for a seat.

They immediately picked out Teal'c sitting by himself at a table, a mountain of fresh fruits in front of him as he lazily munched his way through a banana in a somewhat distracted manner. Daniel and Sam chose to sit opposite the Jaf'fa and exchanged greetings since they'd not seen him already that morning. As Sam dug into her pasta Daniel couldn't help but comment on Teal'c's distracted air and asked what it was that had him so focused.

"The table at the far side of the room," Teal'c nodded slightly with his head in the direction he'd been staring.

Sam and Daniel craned their necks around to see what Teal'c had been observing, to see an animated Captain O'Neill seated opposite General Hammond and engaged in a friendly discussion. Jac's fork, with a portion of cake embedded on the prongs, was waving in the air between the two officers as she used it to make her point. Daniel watched the woman then clean the fork of cake and smile at Hammond, before turning with a frown to the Jaf'fa opposite him. He was immediately reminded of the taunts he'd half been listening to the previous evening, recalling Kinsey's insinuations and the brushing off that Jac had given him on the _Prometheus_.

"Do you see, DanielJackson?"

Sam gave the Jaf'fa a quizzical glance. "See what?"

"Kinsey said we might not trust Jac if we knew who she really was. That she was keeping secrets from us."

"We already knew that, Daniel," sighed Sam, not wanting to repeat the discussion in the lab.

Daniel threw another look back at Jac and Hammond. "I think Kinsey was talking of secrets that perhaps we need to know. Things that shouldn't have been kept from us."

"Teal'c," appealed Sam in desperate need of a little sanity to go with her pasta, "can you translate what ever it is that Daniel is mumbling about?"

"I have my suspicions, ColonelCarter, nothing more. If the secret that Kinsey spoke of is what my heart tells me then I am sure there will be a reasonable excuse for why we have not been told."

"What suspicions? What secret?"

"You know it is on the tip of my tongue," muttered Daniel as he shook his head as if to knock the elusive thought into place.

"Teal'c?" Carter tried again.

"It is not my place to air my suspicions, ColonelCarter. I would beg that you do not ask me again."

"Ah, okay," she agreed, backing off and picking up her spork again.

"Arrggh," growled Daniel, paying little attention to whatever Sam and Teal'c were saying. "This is so frustrating! It's like having Jack needling me every five minutes and being unable to send off somewhere to blow something up."

While Sam and Teal'c's conversation had turned to more mundane base issues, Sam asking about L'masee to find out how the rogue Jaf'fa was taking his confinement, Daniel was playing with his food, spork swirling in circles through the meat part of the spaghetti and meatballs, as he tried to settle the storm of disjointed thoughts in his mind. he knew there was something important about Jac that he was missing. Teal'c had apparently the same thoughts, but seemed more at ease with it, which meant the Jaf'fa, had already reached a conclusion from the disparate facts they knew about the newest member of SG-1.

At that moment, he heard Jac's light laughter across the room and turned in his seat to watch the young woman as she talked to Hammond. Daniel discarded the idle thought that she looked quite good in her dress blues, something that he'd already observed the previous day, and looked on the discussion with a keen eye. There was something deeply familiar with the gestures the woman was making. He knew that the O'Neill part of Jac's identity was a fabrication on the part of the US government, yet she'd done a superb acting job of pretending to be Jack's niece. Some of her gestures and body tics were eerily similar to Jack's and it was a wonder that he'd not noticed before. This was obviously what Teal'c had observed and for the Jaf'fa it had settled the matter of Jac's true identity.

Then a _very_ strange thought floated through Daniel's mind as he watched Jac and Hammond talk. It was so strange that it caught him unexpectedly and quite unaware, yet it was like the last piece in a puzzle falling into place. As he mentally turned the idea over in his head to examine it from all angles it threw into sharp relief various things that he'd either learnt or observed about Captain O'Neill.

"Jac is Jack," he managed in a strangled tone of voice.


	14. Citizen Jane

THANKS: A big thank you to Karen Joy who worked hard as my Beta on this chapter. Callie Sullivan's transcripts of the series

xxx

**FOURTEEN: Citizen Jane**

SGC

February 17th, 2005

1153 hrs

"Pardon?" asked Sam, not having heard what Daniel had mumbled aloud. Teal'c had simply bestowed a raised eyebrow on the younger man.

"Er...," Daniel coughed into his hand, "Nothing. Just a silly thought that struck me."

"If you're sure," Carter said hesitantly.

Daniel nodded and forced himself not to turn and look across the room at Captain O'Neill again. "So, all's well that ends well. We stopped the Trust and a Goa'uld in a plan to set the world at war, Munro has dropped the case against... Jac, and Kinsey croaking was the cherry on top."

"That's a tad morbid, Daniel. Are you sure you are feeling all right?"

"Long night," the younger man said as he took a long sip of his coffee.

"Indeed, today is something of a day of celebrations. Even CaptainO'Neill joins in with cake." Teal'c had a small grin tugging at the corners of his mouth as he watched Sam and especially Daniel.

"Sounds like something Jack would do," Sam carelessly observed as she turned her attention to the last of the pasta on her plate, not noticing Daniel's flinch of a reaction or Teal'c's raised eyebrow.

February 18th, 2005

1442 hrs

Jac stepped into Landry's office wondering just what the General wanted to talk to her about. The latest debacle with Kinsey had come to a reasonably satisfying end, though there had been no body with which to confirm the Goa'uld infested ex-Vice President's apparent death, Jac was sure she had acquitted herself well despite the overwhelming urge to shoot the older man – often. On top of that, Munro's charges had been dropped and her performance with Daniel in Russia hadn't provoked any international outrage. Thus, she was at a loss as to what the General might want to talk to her about, unless it had something to do with the planned trip by SG-1 to P9X-124.

As Jac entered Landry gave her a nod and left his office, the General had been waiting for her by the door to his office. This left Jac in the company of General Hammond who was standing near Landry's desk, attempting to look casual in his study of the awards on the wall.

"Good to see you, Sir," saluted Jac. "What you brings you back so soon? After all, we only saw you off yesterday."

"Have a seat, Jac," instructed Hammond, and Jac did so, sinking into the seat in front of the desk.

Hammond took the seat behind the desk and leant forward slightly, fingers steepled together and a furrow on his brow.

"Just like old times, Sir," joked Jac with forced cheer. This wasn't looking like it was going to shape up to be a pleasant conversation.

"Captain," began Hammond, already moving away from the more friendly and familiar 'Jac' that he'd acknowledge her entry into the room with.

Jac's nerves were on edge with the change to her rank, sure that whatever was that was coming might not be good news, was she being transferred?

"Captain," repeated Hammond as the older man obviously struggled to find the right words, "You recall our discussion about the nature of the meeting that led to the seemingly somewhat arbitrary decisions made for you some months ago when you were unconscious?"

"You mean the one that had me labelled Captain Jacqueline O'Neill and bundled me off to SG-5 before you could say 'Homer Jay Simpson'?"

Hammond nodded. "Now, as I told you, Hayes and myself did the best we could with the situation, given the agenda that Kinsey was trying to push. If we'd pushed for more, like placement on a non-science team like SG-4, then there was a good chance Kinsey would have used all his contacts to have you banned from serving as part of the SGC altogether. If you'd caused a fuss it may have gone the same way."

"Lucky then that I was distracted by a minor issue like a sudden gender change," quipped O'Neill.

With a sigh, Hammond sat back in the leather chair and sized up the young woman opposite him. "It hasn't served you too badly, Jac. Not many of us can claim to be in such good shape at your age."

Jac huffed and fixed Hammond with a steely glare. "Sir, if we could stick to the matter at hand. I'd not like to have you brought up on charges of sexual harassment."

George went red in the face as he flushed with embarrassment, having mentally revisited what he'd said. "My sincere apologies, Captain, I'm too used to thinking of you as one of the men."

The Captain would have broken out laughing in her chair at that excuse if Hammond hadn't been her superior officer and still holding something back from her. "Forget it, Sir. Just tell me what this is all about."

"It has to do with Kinsey."

The knuckles on Jac's hands went white as her grip on the arms of her chair tightened. "Sir?"

"When I returned to Washington yesterday a question was put to me. When we dealt with the aftermath of your change on '878 Kinsey was there to mess up the works and, as you should recall, Kinsey was the one who forced through the stipulation that SG-1 be kept out of the loop. Ostensibly, this was so that their efforts could remain focused on the defence of this planet. I suggested to you it may have more likely have been done purely out of spite."

Jac simply nodded to this summary.

"The question that was raised is, now that Kinsey is out of the equation, do the security orders he requested to be placed on your case still hold as valid?"

"Now that Kinsey is dead..." Jac trailed off as she began to realize where Hammond was going with the conversation.

"The Joint Chiefs of Staff made those decisions and revisited your case in session last night and made some new recommendations. That's why I'm here. Despite whatever it was Kinsey hoped would happen if SG-1 were out of the loop, they've been turning over every stone in existence looking for you. They even visited me in Washington. If this charade went on any longer I'm sure that Carter would have found some way to pick the planet apart atom by atom in order to find you."

Jac swallowed. "You're here to tell them?"

The older man shook his head. "I'm here to tell them, but only if you wish for them to know the truth. That was the decision of the meeting in Washington. I will point out that while the brass has agreed to allow SG-1 to know, if you wish, it is still believed to be in your best interests if no one else learns about what happened to you."

"Okay." Jac took a deep breath and turned her gaze away from Hammond to give herself the illusion of privacy as she pondered her choice. To tell or not to tell. George seemed to think that SG-1 were getting closer to the truth anyway, and Jac felt it was better to do this on her terms rather than have it revealed in some messy and potentially public way. She looked back to Hammond, "SG-1 can know."

1445 hrs

SG-1, minus Jac, had come together in the briefing room with no small amount of curiosity. Landry was waiting for them, seated at the head of the table, yet he had no folders in front of him or other files that might suggest they were about to be sent off- world. Daniel had immediately noticed through the window to Landry's office that Captain O'Neill was engaged in a conversation with General Hammond. What was it that had brought the General back to the SGC less than twenty-fours hours after having left? That pesky thought from lunch the previous day raised its head.

The three took their seats and Hank launched straight in, "I've no idea what this meeting is about, people. Whatever it is, I'm apparently not cleared enough to know. So I'll be leaving now."

With a final reassuring nod General Landry stood and left the room, SG-1 left to fidget and ponder by themselves till Hammond came to talk to them.

"What do you think he wants to talk about?" asked Sam of the other two.

Daniel shrugged. Mentally his subconscious was screaming at him to accept the obvious. Teal'c on the other hand was grinning again, "I believe GeneralHammond is about to confirm my answer to a number of questions that I have been asking myself these last couple of months."

"Something big then?" asked Sam.

"In a manner of speaking."

Sam sat back in her chair. "Perhaps something to do with Ba'al then; He's been pretty quiet since Captain O'Neill was rescued and seems to be taking his time making his way to '124 and '878."

"I believe it is of a personal nature."

"How can something of a personal nature be 'big'?" was Daniel's confused question.

"In the way it affects other people, DanielJackson."

Daniel threw another look at the office and watched Jac answer some question of Hammond with what could only be described as steely resolution. He frowned. "Something to do with Jac?" The thought from lunch was pounding away in the background like an alarm that he couldn't switch off.

Sam followed his gaze and watched as Hammond stood and removed himself from behind his desk to walk to the office door, Jac following him with a slightly unsure gait. "Well, whatever it is, it look like we're about to find out."

The door to Landry's office swung open and General Hammond entered the briefing room, Jac almost hiding behind him as she shadowed his movements.

"SG-1."

"Good to see you, Sir," was Carter's response.

Teal'c and Daniel added their greetings as Hammond took the seat at the head of the table. Jac cautiously moved around the table to take a seat, sitting herself down with at least one empty chair between her and the rest of SG-1. Sam noted the behaviour and wondered at the cause.

"Well, SG-1, this has to be the strangest briefing that I have ever had with you, and after one evening last September I feared that it may never take place. However recent events have brought us to this point and it is time for some truths to be acknowledged."

Sam's eyes narrowed as she listened to Hammond's opening statement "Are you telling us that you are now going to explain what happened to General O'Neill and why you and others seems to have been stonewalling our attempts to contact him. What recent events could possibly bring about a sudden reversal from your previous vow of silence?"

Daniel could see that Sam was upset and agitated and knew that the woman hadn't been at her best ever since Jack had mysteriously dropped out of their lives. He himself was still dealing with the occasional nightmare created by the ongoing uncertainty over the nature of his friend's unexpected removal from the SGC, something not helped by the escapade with the Ancient device in Carter's lab. That had left him, once it was over, with a doozy of a nightmare that involved Jack 'killing' Daniel over and over again.

"Indeed, I am here at the request of the Joint Chiefs of Staff and the President to explain past events and decisions that have been kept from you. The first point I'll come to is why you are being told now, almost five months after the fact." Hammond shifted awkwardly in his seat.

"Kinsey," said Daniel suddenly as if another piece of the puzzle that was tickling the back of his mind slid home.

"Yes, Kinsey, unfortunately, your past endeavours have never won much affection from Kinsey and he used his influence, what remained of it after Anubis' attack anyway, to have you excluded from knowing what was going on."

"Doctor Brightman did intimate that our digging around for answers about the General was something that the Senator had tried to prevent," offered Carter, wondering if Teal'c was going to contribute anything at all to the conversation.

Hammond nodded sadly. "That was the excuse Kinsey used when requiring you to remain uninformed. The President and I were forced to concede to this demand in order to obtain our own goals, one of which was keep O'Neill as part of the SGC. We were both of the same mind that if we'd tried to push for you to be told the truth we would have lost what little advantage we'd gained."

"Hang on," interrupted Daniel, "what on Earth could Jack have done that would threaten him with removal from the SGC? I know he wasn't the most...co-operative of people, but what he did was always in the best interests of the planet. Even if I didn't always agree with _how_ he went about it."

Jac raised an eyebrow at that.

"It wasn't so much O'Neill's actions, as a set of circumstances that were beyond his and our control."

Sam pounced on that proclamation. "So something did happen to the General on P5X-878!"

Jac meanwhile had grown weary of the gradual drip-feeding of new information as it was slowly putting her more and more on edge with fear of a negative reaction. With a burst of O'Neill foolhardy courage, she decided to force the issue. "C'mon, George," growled Jac. "It's like a band-aid you whip off in one go. Just tell 'em and be done with it for crying out loud!"

Daniel swung his gaze sharply at the Captain sitting across and to the left of where he sat. "Jack?"

"Yeah?" was the Captain's cautious reply, unsure what exactly it was that the archaeologist was asking.

"No, I mean _Jack_. As in the man who I went to Abydos with and told me he was an only child."

"Daniel, what are you talking about?"

Jac huffed in wonder that Sam was the last to understand as he could tell from the Jaf'fa's impassive demeanour that he'd obviously twigged to the reality of the situation much earlier than Daniel had, perhaps even before this meeting itself had started. "Yup, that's me. Right here. In this seat. Staring at you with these big ol' brown eyes." Jac wrinkled her nose. "Do you think the haircut suits me?" She smirked.

Sam's jaw hung in surprise while Daniel tried to process the question posed and found that his brain was refusing to co-operate.

"It is good to talk with you freely once more, O'Neill," Teal'c said, finally breaking his silence.

"You knew, Teal'c?" asked General Hammond of the man seated to his left.

"Indeed."

Jac fixed her eyes on the Jaf'fa and with a wry smile asked exactly what it was that had eventually given the game away.

"I have not suspected for long. It was your behaviour during our mission to retrieve Maybourne that gave rise to the notion that you were more than someone unknown to us that was using the name O'Neill as a means to hide within the SGC."

"I don't recall anything that would have suggested that Jac was Jack." Daniel started after saying that, somewhat amused by the nature of the sentence.

"It was nothing overt," explained Teal'c, "although the obsession with ice hockey could be said by many to be a full handing out."

"Complete give away, T," corrected Jac like old times.

With a nod of thanks the Jaf'fa continued. "It was more an appreciation that the female O'Neill, despite some obvious nervousness one might attribute to first mission doubts, was able to operate with the rest of SG-1 as if such an arrangement had been in place for years rather than days."

Jac swung her slightly bent right arm in a short, sharp motion. "D'oh! I knew I'd slip up and give myself away, but I'm amazed that I did so, so quickly."

"If it is any consolation, O'Neill," Teal'c said with a smile, "both ColonelCarter and DanielJackson were fooled."

Here everyone at the table turned to look at the other two members of SG-1. Sam still hadn't managed to say anything since the revelation and Daniel was still amusing himself with his last utterance in order to avoid thinking too deeply about the issue at hand. With the spotlight on them both however, they felt the need to say something and both blurted out what was the first thought that entered their minds.

"You were flirting with me!"

"You've seen me naked!" 

The table was silent at that and George turned his gaze to Jac as if to ask her to elaborate on both accusations. Jac looked at the tabletop to gather herself before looking up at her confused accusers.

"Firstly, I wasn't flirting with you Dannyboy. Believe me; while I like you as a friend, you are _not_ what I'd look for in a partner. Not that I'm looking for a partner right now," Jac added quickly after realizing what her answer initially sounded like. "Nope. No partner for me. Free and single, that's what it is all about. Going solo. Doing it for myself and all that..."

Jac trailed off, as that sounded vaguely like an ad for a vibrator.

"But," Daniel said, almost vaguely disappointed with the answer to his question, "Teal'c said you were flirting with me at that bar?"

"And T has confirmed that he suspected that I was me...oy! That does sound really odd." Jac frowned. "Any who, T did say that by then he already thought that I was me, So why would he think I was flirting with you?"

Daniel scowled and looked to the Jaf'fa for an answer.

"I believe that your face right now is all the explanation you need, DoctorJackson, for my motivation."

The archaeologist dropped into a sulk, although he wasn't quite sure why he was sulking. Sam meanwhile was waiting patiently for an answer to her own question, even though by now she was beginning to come to terms a little with reality as it now stood, and felt somewhat ashamed by her outburst.

"As for seeing you naked," here Jac caught Sam's eyes and held her gaze. "Did you ever feel uncomfortable when we were using the shower area at the same time?"

Sam did have to answer in the negative and Jac relaxed a little. "You do realize, Colonel, that I am now far better acquainted with the female body than I might have wished when I was male. I have everything that you have and being on this side of the fence is a little different to appreciating it from afar, if you understand what I mean?"

"So, physically you are no longer attracted to women?" queried Daniel.

"If you put it like that, then yes," growled Jac. "Hence the not-touching-the-partner-idea policy I'm currently sticking to. While I may have undergone a refurbishment on the outside that includes new plumbing, upstairs hasn't been redecorated. Let me tell it is hugely confusing to be mentally attracted to women, but have your body responding in the opposite direction. And that is _all_ I'm going to say to any of you on that topic."

The Captain had finger by waggling her finger at the four others seated at the table. A short silence followed this proclamation.

"So, can someone tell what has really been going on for these last five months?" asked Sam.

Hammond asked them to wait a moment while he summoned Dr. Brightman to the briefing room. Once the Doctor had arrived, and those who'd wanted a drink of water had indulged themselves, Jac, Brightman, and Hammond together sketched out what they knew of the events on '878, and the meeting of the Joint Chiefs to deal with the problem. The decisions made with Kinsey's interference, and Sara Daniel's help in Jac's adjustment to her new condition.

"So, is there anyway to reverse this?" was the sound of Daniel asking the obvious question. "After all, all of us on SG-1 have affected by something at some point in our gate travel that has attempted to change who or what we are into something else."

Everyone at the table was briefly caught by memories of the Touched, nanites, infectious bugs, and other such influences that had attempted to steal either their humanity or their sanity.

"Our major problem is that we've no idea what caused the gender change in the first place," explained Brightman. "SG-5 noticed nothing unusual on '878 before it happened, nor when they returned to investigate."

"Yet there is something there, for SG-5 did not return," intoned Teal'c.

"And you think that P5X-878 is the prison planet that Ba'al is searching for," stated Daniel, to which the Jaf'fa just nodded.

"Daniel?" prodded Sam.

"Ah, I just had an idea. You all know about the Ancient device from P8X-345 that Sam activated a little while ago?"

"Oy, do we ever," grouched Jac.

Daniel favoured her with an amused glance, as it was very odd to observe Jack's behaviour in a female body.

"Anyway, if you're done drooling over me Spacemonkey," quipped Jac, "You might tell us this brainstorm of yours."

Hammond leaned forward in interest, simply glad that SG-1 hadn't reacted too badly to the revelation of Jac's true identity, now they had something to distract themselves with that would let their subconscious deal with the issue of Jac's gender until such time it came to the forefront again—which it surely would. Daniel glared at Jac before carrying on with his train of thought.

"Ah, well, if I'm right about the purpose of the device, it was designed as a means of punishment. It makes the individual relive the moment of death of their victims from the point of view of the victim. Presumably, this could be repeated as often as needed based on the number of victims or however long it took the offender to reform.

"Well, if that is a typical example of Ancient justice then surely their other means of punishment would follow a similar line."

"Daniel?" Sam didn't quite get what the younger man was pushing at.

"For example, the device from '345 would seemingly be designed to deal with murderers, putting them in the place of their victims and letting them understand the fear and pain they have cause till they reach a point where they no longer want to feel such things and hopefully in the future avoid causing them in others.

"But, and here's the important thing, such a system may not work so well for sexual offenders who often can't see anything wrong with their actions, their moral compass having been completely skewed. So, what if on '878 there was a device designed specifically for sexual offenders, one that punishes them by swapping their gender?"

"That's a pretty big stretch there, Doctor Jackson. However, if you are correct, would that not suggest that the Captain here is a sexual offender?"

Daniel's face went blank at General Hammond's summation and then white when he understood of what he had essentially just accused Jac.

"I've taken no offense, Daniel;" Jac said calmly, "so wipe the panicked look off your face. I will say that I've not been anywhere I have been invited. Now, with another hugely embarrassing insight into me revealed, can we skip to the end of this meeting so I can go home and hide under the covers for a few days till my blush goes away?"

Hammond took pity on the young woman. "I think we can agree to that, and the rest of SG-1 could probably stand to use the weekend to think this bombshell through. I will add, SG-1," and here Hammond focused on the other three members of the team, "that it should go, without saying, that what has been revealed here today does _not_ get spoken of to anyone else. If you need to talk with someone who knows the truth, and on this base, that is _only_ the people in this room, I suggest you make sure that no one can overhear your conversation. SG-1, Doctor Brightman, you are dismissed."

Jack's Ale House, Colorado Springs

February 19th, 2005

1737 hrs

Daniel peeled the label off the bottle of beer that he was nursing, sitting by himself in a booth as time slowly ticked by. It was early evening and thus there was little chance that a group would want the booth as the bar was by no means full. He'd found himself walking in the door before he had realized what he was doing and was now left to reflect on recent events.

The revelation of Jac's true identity was something Daniel felt he should have realized much earlier, and was annoyed that'd he'd ignored what his subconscious had been trying to tell him only the day before the truth was told. The net result of the briefing was that SG-1 had been dismissed for the weekend, Hammond felt that the team needed time to process what they had been told. Daniel hadn't been too keen to just mope around his apartment and stare at the four walls while dwelling on the nature of Jac. Therefore, he'd stayed on at the SGC after the meeting and had begun to dig back through all the material he had on the Ancients in order to find something that might be relevant to Jac's situation.

He'd stayed overnight at the base that evening, too tired to contemplate driving back to his apartment, and had found himself woken in the middle of the night with a strangled cry in his throat. Daniel had always hoped that finding Jack, especially essentially unharmed, would spell the end of the nightmares that had beset him when the older man had gone missing. Yet that nightmare the night on the base showed that something was still wrong deep down in his subconscious, something beyond the fears created by Jack simply being missing.

The archaeologist took a swig of his beer and sighed. If he had to be perfectly honest, he figured the reason he'd still been beset by a nightmare was merely down to the lingering attraction he'd felt towards Jac. It was not a serious interest, as he'd been attracted to plenty of pretty faces since he'd lost his wife Sha're, and had decided that Jac O'Neill was yet another one he'd briefly admire but do nothing about. Intellectually, he'd marked Jac as off limits as she was a member of SG-1 – he didn't need that sort of complication to his job – but his body was obviously far more deeply interested if the dream was anything to go by.

His nightmare, which had begun with his very naked self wrapped around an equally naked Jac had evolved during some heated kissing into him frenching a naked _Jack_ O'Neill. That has not been an image he'd wanted to wake up with and have floating in front of his mind's eye at that early hour. He'd almost felt the urge to vomit as he sat, startled, on his bed in the room he was using.

Daniel began tearing the peeled bottle label into tiny pieces in order to give his fidgeting fingers something to do. The nightmare had effectively made today a complete write-off, unable to concentrate on anything for a lengthy period of time, as flashes of him and Jac or him and _Jack_ kept on intruding. It was disturbing enough that he'd given up on work shortly after lunchtime and went driving slowly about Colorado Springs as if searching for answers to his unrest, which was what had led him to the bar.

Looking about, as if for the first time, Daniel realized that this was the same bar and the same booth that SG-1 had been at when Teal'c had made his now infamous 'flirting' comment. Was he always going to be confronted now with reminders of that early attraction? Angrily finishing his beer Daniel stood up sharply and left the bar in a huff. Ignoring his parked car, he went for a walk around the block in the chilled air to try to calm down and sort out where to go from here.

He looked at the situation rationally as he wandered down the sidewalk. He was attracted to Jac physically and there was no denying that she was a good-looking, young woman. Even Jack's somewhat abrasive personality seemed more bearable when he was a she, or was that simply down to her having the right curves where there had been no curves before. Daniel snorted. Still, even before the truth had been revealed, he'd decided not pursue anything with Jac, and Daniel considered himself man enough to temper his attraction til it was forgotten.

With a frown, Daniel acknowledged to himself that this issue was on the grand scale of things terribly insignificant and reminded himself that whatever minor agony he was going through as he worked through this attraction; it had to be a molehill when compared to the mountain that would be Sam's situation. The Colonel's life had been in something of a holding pattern since Jack had gone mysteriously missing and now that he was back, he was a she, which could only complicate the choice Sam was now faced with.

Daniel didn't envy her.

SGC

1815 hrs

Teal'c had tried to kel'no'reem but had very little success, worry over the state of SG-1 visible on his brow. He'd observed that Daniel had stayed on the base overnight and, for him, it was plain to see that the younger man had not obtained a good and restful night's sleep. Obviously, the reality of Captain O'Neill was beginning to settle in for the archaeologist. The revelation of O'Neill's past had not been of great surprise to the Jaf'fa, his keen observation skills pointing out several inconsistencies or contradictions in the Captain's behaviour that all but shouted out Jac's true nature.

Therefore, it was not the truth that had Teal'c unsettled, but some small worry about the future of his team. SG-1 had survived Jack's promotion, and the assignment of the Captain some months after that. From Hammond's behaviour it looked like there would be no top-level decision to remove Jac from the team now that the rest of SG-1 knew the truth, and Jac herself seemed keen to stay on and work with them. It was not Jac herself that had the Jaf'fa worried. Daniel had stayed on base and moped around, achieving very little in the process. Colonel Carter meanwhile had left the base as fast as she could manage without the aid of alien technology and hadn't been heard from since.

It was the reaction of the two teammates to the true nature of Jac, which had Teal'c worried. Sam's relationship with PeteShanahan had some months ago left the team's relationship with O'Neill in a precarious state, now that he was back as a woman and part of SG-1 all the plans for healing the breach might simply go out the window in the chaos of the revelation. It was possible that one or both of Sam and Daniel could simply return to work on the Monday and flat out refuse to work on the team due to any possible form of awkwardness that could be named. That would be the end of SG-1. They had lost Daniel before, but that was not through a conflict of interests. That had been an external force, whereas this time the one thing that could pull them apart would be themselves.

Teal'c let his eyes slide shut once more as he sought his centre, hoping with as much will as he could muster, that somehow this weekend Daniel and Sam would find a way to work with Jac and keep SG-1 as a cohesive unit.

Jac's house, Colorado Springs

February 20th, 2005

1206 hrs

As per Hammond's orders, SG-1 had gone home after the meeting to take time to work through the repercussions of the revelation of Jac's true nature that had taken place on the Friday. Jac had amused herself all of the Saturday with finishing the unpacking that she'd started when she'd moved back in and completing various chores that needed doing around the house and property. This had worked exactly as she had wanted it to, letting her completely forget about the Friday meeting and relax.

Sunday morning Jac had first attended the local Catholic Church mass, followed by a quick stop at the supermarket to help restock the fridge and freezer with food. Not too many perishables though, since Landry was sending SG-1 off world in the coming week to locate the prison planet Ba'al was after and one could never be sure how long one might be stuck off-world if the mission went to hell in a hand basket. Jack had learned that lesson pretty quickly into SG-1's first year of missions when he'd come home to a fridge that smelled far worse than merely ripe.

Shortly after parking her car in the driveway, Jac's cellphone had chirped to life and she'd discovered a timid and nervous Samantha Carter on the other end of the line. The Colonel, it seemed, was alone at home and wanted a chance to sit down with her, one on one, in order to discuss some 'issues' that she felt needed dealing with before they went off-world again in the future. Collecting the bags of shopping from the car and closing the vehicle up, Jac wandered up the front path to the door, cellphone pinned between her ear and shoulder. Carter was suggesting Monday morning as a good time to meet as Jac pushed the door open and stepped into the house.

"No," explained Jac, "I have a thing with someone from CIA, a Johnson someone or other. It's about that whole Kinsey thing."

Feeling that Jac was trying to avoid meeting alone, Sam changed the topic to what Jac was up to for the rest of the weekend so she could ambush the younger woman with her request at another time. Jac saw the ploy from a mile away and hurried to find an excuse to avoid what seemed like an explosive situation. Carter's timidity and nervousness was soon fast disappearing at the other end of the phone line, replaced by an angry woman wanting answers.

"Oh yeah. Big. Huge!" exaggerated Jac when discussing her plans as she made her way to the kitchen.

"Yeah, me neither," Sam sighed, wishing she could get Jac to agree to talk. She needed to have a private one-on-one 'chat' in order to clear the air. It was something that had to be done, not only for Jac and herself, but also for Pete. With this fresh revelation about where Jack had disappeared to, she knew that her time for stalling was close to an end. She needed to come to a decision, and then break it to Pete.

"What are you talkin' about?" complained Jac as if she truly did have grand plans for the remainder of the fast disappearing weekend. "I just walked in with a whole handful of ingredients for my world-famous omelette."

"World-famous, huh? What's in it?" Sam was slightly amused to find that if she ignored the feminine lilt to the voice, she could easily picture the male Jack in his kitchen with a silly grin on his face. She sighed and in passing though of Pete once more. She really need to talk to Jac.

"Eggs," answered Jac as she began removing several bottles of beer from the shopping bags and placing them on the bench.

"I don't think that that actually qualifies as a recipe." Sam was really trying to keep her end of the conversation light, but she felt like her world was beginning to press down on her with its obligations.

"Oh, don't kid yourself. There's a secret ingredient. I can't tell you what it is or I'd have to shoot you."

"It's beer, isn't it?" Sam's question was essentially rhetorical. In contrast to herself Jac seemed, at least over the phone, almost as light as a feather, as if most of her problems had melted away with her change of gender. Sam was almost envious of that, before chiding herself over the emotion.

"Carter..."

Jac didn't get any further with what she was going to say, or with putting the bottles away as a short man burst his way into the kitchen via the kitchen door and pointed a trembling pistol into Jac's face.

"...let me call you back," Jac managed and she hung up. Then she turned face on to the intruder. "Hello."

"You're not Jack O'Neill."

Jac blinked. Really, home invasion had changed in the last decade since she'd had to chase an intruder from her and Sara's home shortly after marrying. "No. Here's a better question, who are you?"

"It doesn't matter – to anyone," the man said. "All you need to know is he ruined my life. I know he lives here, so you'll do till he turns up."

Jac watched the man with a small, amused smile. "Okay, look, this obviously isn't your forte, so why don't you just put the gun down before you get hurt?"

She took a step towards the man who then wildly waved the gun at her. "Don't come any closer!"

"I know your gun isn't real," tried Jac as with her right hand she pulled open one of her kitchen drawers and pulled out a pistol lying within. After all, changing genders hadn't rendered her stupid. Safety was safety, no matter what. "However, mine is."

"Oh God!" the man cried in horrified realization of what was being pointed at him. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, you're right, it's just a toy."

The intruder dropped the fake gun on the floor and raised his hands in a surrender posture. "Please don't shoot me."

"I'm not gonna shoot ya," Jac placated, a little voice in the back of her head telling her the man before her should be familiar.

Meanwhile the man continued to babble in fear, "I'm sorry – I just thought it was the only way to make him listen to me."

"Oh, where you're goin', people will listen," the Captain explained as she used her cellphone once more. "They've got nothin' to do but listen to what you have to say. They've got nice white coats, padded walls, the whole nine yards."

"Please, wait!" was the panicked cry. "You're the... wife?"

Jac gave the man a flat stare as the phone continued to ring.

"Partner? Lover? Sister?"

Jac continued to watch with vague bemusement.

"Wait! Please. I'm here looking for Brigadier General Jack O'Neill, head of Stargate Command at Cheyenne Mountain. He used to command SG-1, which is now led by Lieutenant Colonel Samantha Carter. He once visited a planet called Argos and the nanites in your blood caused him to age artificially. He had the entire repository of the Ancients' knowledge downloaded into his brain – twice! He has a thing for _The_ _Simpson'_, fishing, Mary Steenburgen, the colour peridot, and he's a terrible ping-pong player.

"Although now that I think about it you probably have no idea what I'm talking about."

"I'll ask again, who are you?"

"My name is Joe Spencer," answered the little man. "I'm a barber."

Jac raised an eyebrow at that. This was new. Cancelling the call on her phone, instead she dialled the mountain. The line was promptly connected. "Yes, this is Captain O'Neill. I believe the SGC may have a security breach."

Joe Spencer was now gazing up at Jac with a look of wonder on his face at hearing her words. "It's all true, isn't it? Everything I've seen—the Stargate, the Goa'uld, the Asgards—it's all real. Tell me it's real—I need to know."

Having briefly explained the need to bring a civilian onto the base, Jac hung up and fixed Spencer with an odd look. 'Might as well stick up for my old self, nobody else will'. "Well, first of all, Joe, he's not a terrible ping-pong player!"

SGC

1239 hrs

Brightman was in her office organizing the blood samples taken from the civilian in her infirmary to be taken for testing. Jac had taken up a position a short distance away from the bed that Joe Spencer now sat on, both of them talking about two of their favourite topics – _The Simpsons_ and Jack O'Neill.

"Between you and me, I totally see Jack's analogy – Burns as Goa'uld."

"Thank you!"

"So," began Joe haltingly, "what were you doing in Jack's house?"

Before Jac could say or do anything Carter entered the infirmary and came to stand beside the Captain. She gave Jac a 'we'll talk later' look and turned back to the barber to find that the man was on his feet and holding his hand out for a handshake.

"This is such an honour. I don't know how to thank you for all you've done for our planet. There are not enough words!"

"It's nice to meet you too." Sam was somewhat lost as to who the man might be. Was he akin to the alien Martin they had met a couple of years before? She threw another look to Jac who simply ignored the request for a full briefing. Instead, Jac simply gave her the man's name.

"I was particularly impressed with the time you blew up that sun," Joe babbled on.

"Well, thank you! I had a bit of help." Sam gave Jac another look that the younger woman shrugged off.

"And as far as this whole Pete Shanahan thing goes—"

Jac simply pinched the man to curtail his current line of conversation before Carter blew a gasket. Joe meanwhile hardly seemed to notice Jac's action as Daniel had strolled into the room.

"Doctor Jackson, can I just say, thank goodness you're back," Joe began already shaking the bemused archaeologist's hand, "Not that Jonas was a bad guy, but after all you've been through together, you belong here with SG-1."

"Thank you!" Daniel wasn't totally sure right now if that was even true, given Friday's briefing. He awkwardly shuffled himself away from Jac after getting the civilian to release his hand and gave the gender-altered member of SG-1 a penetrating look. "Jac?"

"He's a barber," answered Jac as she went for broke in the annoying Sam and Daniel stakes. If she kept them focused on Joe then perhaps the impending argument that loomed on the horizon could be stalled for a little while longer.

"Broke into your house?"

"Yeah."

"Second week in a row."

"Mm-hmm."

"Alarm," suggested Daniel trying to keep his emotions on an even keel. He'd hoped to have Sunday to sort out his reaction to Jac and already that precious time was gone.

"I'm thinkin' dog." Was she a dog person still? Jack had been a dog person, especially when Charlie had still been alive. Would it make more sense for Jac to be a cat person instead?

"You could try locking your front door," was Joe's advice.

After that the conversation in the infirmary became stilted and uncomfortable, which was why everyone was quite happy when General Landry ordered them all up to the briefing room to 'discuss' the security issue that had 'arisen'. Jac had gone in search of Teal'c, in order to obtain some breathing space of her own and Daniel had muttered something about having an idea. The archaeologist had promptly disappeared back to his own office. That had left Sam as the one to escort the still-talking-like-an-excited-child Joe to the briefing room where Landry awaited them.

Once Joe had been introduced to Landry, Sam set up her laptop opposite Joe as the Colonel wasn't wanting to sit any closer to the strange man than she possibly had to. The laptop would also prove a good barrier between them and hopefully nip any further attempts to talk about Pete in the bud. She had spotted Captain O'Neill's pinching of the man and wondered what the motivation for that had been. Was O'Neill protecting Sam's feelings or saving her own skin? At this point Jac, arrived with Teal'c, prompting Joe to stand and greet Teal'c in Jaf'fa tradition, complete with the required gripping of the upper arm. That had caught the Jaf'fa slightly off guard, as he'd expected the traditional human handshake.

"Joe. A barber." Once again, Jac thought that was all that was needed to explain the situation.

"Please be seated," Teal'c said with a nod to Spencer, who promptly sat down followed by Jac and Teal'c himself.

"What do Brightman's tests tell us, Colonel?" asked Landry, effectively getting the impromptu meeting underway.

"Well, Sir, initial tests show that Joe possesses the same Ancient gene as Captain O'Neill here."

That excited Joe beyond belief. "I just want you to know, if you ever need me to use the Chair device in Antarctica in defence of the planet, I'm there."

Jac, who had sat down next to Spencer, gave the man a small smile and a thank you. Teal'c, sitting next to Carter, exchanged a glance with the Colonel before Sam turned her attention back to the medical report Brightman had swiftly managed to supply. "Other than that, his physiology is completely normal," she concluded.

"Do not a great many people possess this Ancient gene?" queried Teal'c.

"Yeah, I mean, how come I'm the only one seeing these things?" demanded Spencer.

"Colonel?" asked Landry who too wanted to know how this security breach had come about.

Carter sighed. "Unfortunately our knowledge of Ancient physiology is fairly limited. The only other thing we know is that Joe has somehow managed to gain access to huge amounts of classified information, mainly in regard to SG-1, and that these visions are somehow connected to the stone he found."

"Anything on that?" was Jac's contribution.

"Daniel's looking into it. He did say there was something familiar about it."

"You claim to receive these visions only within the proximity of the stone," summarized the Jaf'fa before postulating, "Perhaps there is a connection between the stone and your genetic predispositions."

"I know that hair makes you look different, but didn't you use to be more gold-coloured?"

No one seated at the table could thing of a way to answer the question created by Joe's abrupt change of topic. Luckily, for all involved, Daniel chose that moment to come up the stairs into the briefing room.

"I think I've got it!" he crowed, but still keeping his eyes from meeting Jac's. "Took me a while to track it down, but..." Here Daniel placed Joe's stone that he'd purchased at a garage sale on the table, and next to it one he'd found in his store of artefacts.

"You have one too?" Joe was astounded.

"They're a set. You all remember P3R-233? The planet where I...

"...where you found the quantum mirror that sent you to an alternate reality where the Goa'uld invaded Earth," interrupted Joe.

Several around the table nodded in response.

"I think the stones were a kind of Ancient long-range communication device," explained Daniel, "allowing people to see events over great distances by assuming a sort of psychic connection. Now, Jack must have activated the link between the stones by picking up the second stone. Now, after that, all that would be required is a certain proximity to the stone for the connection to be activated. Now, seeing as the stone has been stored in the base archives..."

"But that doesn't explain how the other stone got to the... where?" asked Jac. "Where was it?"

"A garage sale."

Joe smiled at Teal'c for remembering the details. "The person who sold it to me said his grandfather found it on a dig in Egypt."

Carter leant forward slightly, "But that still doesn't explain the proximity issue. I mean, if the stone General O'Neill touched was kept here how was Joe able to see everything that happened to the general off-world?"

"Maybe," speculated Daniel, "he was getting most of it from when Jack was writing his reports right here on the base. The stone was being stored just a few levels above."

"That's why the stories were so easy to write. It was like someone else had done most of the work for me!"

"And you say they all got rejected?" queried Jac.

Sam meanwhile was busy processing another thought. "Wait a second – if the stones work the way Daniel says, shouldn't General O'Neill have been able to see elements of Joe's life as well?"

"Theoretically, yes, he would," answered Daniel, which prompted all but Joe, Landry, and Jac herself to turn their gaze on the neo-woman.

"What does this have to do with her?" asked Joe in confusion. Then he said "Oh" as an idea occurred to him. "You're the reason why the last few visions have felt different. It was your thoughts I was seeing!"

Landry raised an eyebrow. "You're telling me that this stone also affects the Captain here?"

Jac turned a small grin on the barber. "Bowling league, Thursday nights?"

"You saw that?"

"You got game, son!"

Daniel by now was flustered and somewhat angry. Here was proof of another thing that O'Neill had kept from the other members of SG-1. "Wait a minute. Jac – you've been seeing parts of the life of a barber in Indiana for some time and you never mentioned it?"

"Yeah, sure I did. I know I did." Jac knew that with 'some time' Daniel had meant the seven years 'Jack' had experienced the visions as opposed to the short time that 'Jac' had.

"No. No, you didn't." Carter ground her teeth in frustration. This whole ridiculous scenario was not helping her mood, and the Captain's behavior was beginning to rub her up the wrong way.

"I didn't?"

"You didn't find that the least bit odd?" was Daniel's next question, his eyes tracking Sam's white knuckles as she maintained a death grip on the table in front of her.

"Actually, no – I found it quite...relaxing."

"Relaxing?" was the surprised bark of the barber. "I found having visions as you profoundly disturbing!"

"Explain," commanded the Jaf'fa at the table.

"General O'Neill's visions I could handle, as it was a male point of view that I could understand. It gave me something to hang onto while I tried to process the alien nature of his day-to-day job," began Joe, "but the memories I got from the Captain here were very confusing. I _really_ didn't like the way you ogled Daniel Jackson here."

Jac flushed in embarrassment and Daniel's mouth had dropped open in surprise – or was that horror now that the truth had been revealed to the rest of SG-1?

The rest of the meeting degenerated from there, with Daniel accusing Jac of lying about flirting with him, while Sam kept trying to pin the Captain down as to a time they could talk privately. Teal'c would have found the whole thing amusing, if the outcome for SG-1 as a team didn't appear so bleak. The two of them were busy yelling at O'Neill and the young woman was sitting rigidly in her chair with her arms crossed, and a black look on her face. JoeSpencer meanwhile had decided to talk to him in his excited non-stop patter, something that was getting on the stoic Jaf'fa's nerves.

Thankfully, General Landry didn't have the patience to endure such a scenario for long and proved his bite was as good as his bark. Daniel and Sam were dismissed to their workspaces to cool off and Teal'c was allowed to leave to pursue his own interests now that the situation with the civilian barber was proving not such an immediate threat to the security of the SGC. Jac had sighed in relief once the rest of SG-1 had exited the briefing room, Sam looking very unhappy about it all and Daniel operating under a thundercloud of anger. Teal'c had given her a friendly squeeze on the shoulder as he'd left which had gone some way to giving Jac hope that it wasn't all over as far as he relationship with Daniel and the Colonel went.

Walter chose that moment to enter the room and hand Landry a thin document before leaving again. Taking a pen from his shirt pocket Landry pushed the papers and pen in front of Spencer. "We need you to sign this, Mister Spencer."

"What is it?" was the question asked as Joe picked up the pen and the document, almost going crossed-eyed at the large amount of small type on the page. He flipped a few pages. There were at least six double-sided pages all with the same small type. On the last page, there was a space set aside for a date and a signature.

"This is our standard Official Secrets Act Nondisclosure document. We'll be needing you to sign it."

Joe looked Landry squarely in the eye. "Is this the one that says the government can do anything it likes to me if I blab about what I know?"

"It is. Needless to say, you _will_ be signing it before you leave this place."

The barber gulped and trembled a little with fear, before steeling himself. "Can I make one request?"

It had taken some haggling over the request, especially once Joe came to understand that Jack O'Neill wasn't available for any time in the near future. In the end, it was agreed that Jac, as the General's niece and a member of the SGC, would accompany Joe as the man met with his estranged wife. Landry had given the go-ahead for the barber to tell the woman the truth with Jac as a witness to that truth, although Jac would have the additional task of making sure that Charlene Spencer also signed a nondisclosure form. With the assurance that this would take place Joe was happy to sign _any_ bit of paper they pushed in front of him, even if they only need him to sign the one.

The result was that a day later Jac was standing near the edge of the park watching Joe Spencer sitting nervously on a bench, his situation prompting Jac to recall the first few times that Jack had met with Sara after their separation. She watched as Charlene reached the seat and the pair engaged in some uncomfortable conversation, Jac able to read the word 'divorce' on the woman's lips. Jac winced in sympathy for Joe. After a moment or two, further Joe waved her over.

"Show time," Jac muttered to herself as she walked confidently over in her dress blues.

"Here she comes now," Joe said as Jac got closer to the couple. "Charlene – meet Captain Jacqueline O'Neill of the United States Air Force. She is General Jack O'Neill's niece."

Jac offered her hand to the surprised woman and could almost hear the woman's train of thought as she cycled from 'who is this young bitch he's shacked up with' to 'how could he forget me so fast' to 'she'll get tired of him soon enough and leave him, poor Joe', to 'O'Neill? Why is that name familiar. Air Force? Niece?'

"It's a pleasure to meet you, ma'am," smiled Jac winningly as the older woman shook her hand reluctantly. "I think we have some things to talk about."

SGC

February 21st, 2005

1132 hrs

While she had been unable to pin Captain O'Neill down for a little 'chat', Carter had found another issue to deal with and that was tidying up the loose ends that SG-1 had been picking at in order to find the transformed General O'Neill. She was currently finishing up a phone conversation with Agent Barrett, letting the NID spook know that SG-1 were no longer looking for the missing man as they had discovered his location. That had devolved into a series of questions from Malcolm about what Jack had been up to and where, which Sam had been unable to answer due to the fact that Hammond had requested that the knowledge of Captain O'Neill's past be restricted.

"No, I'm sorry Barrett, but it is beyond my authority to let you know what has been going on these last few months with General O'Neill," she sighed, catching Daniel entering her lab out the corner of her eye. "It was down to a recent change in the administration that SG-1 was filled in," she explained after a pause to listen to Malcolm's pleading.

Daniel gave Sam a small smile and took a seat on a free stool, hands in his lap as he waited patiently for the phone call to end.

"Look, I have to go, Malcolm," tried Sam, "Daniel's come in and we have some important stuff to talk about."

There was a silence. "No," continued Sam, "I'm not making that up to try and end this conversation. Uh huh. Good-bye, Agent Barrett."

Sam hung the phone up and sat back in relief.

"Tough call?"

"Barrett. He's like a dog with a bone."

"I take it this means you talked to him about calling off our search for Jack," guessed the archaeologist.

"Hmm," agreed Sam as she massaged her forehead. "I knew that his drive would be handy to us in locating O'Neill, I just never thought I'd be on the end of his need-to-know mania."

Daniel let a light chuckle escape him. "But at least that issue has been put to bed."

Sam nodded. Hammond had left instructions with SG-1 to end their crusade to find General O'Neill now that they had been told the truth. Barrett had simply been the last trail that had needed closing.

"So that leaves only one issue left, does it not?" added Daniel in the hanging silence.

"Daniel?"

"Jac."

"Jack?"

"No, _Jac_, as in the Captain who recently joined SG-1," explained the younger man. "I spent the entire weekend going around in circles, getting nothing done in the process!"

"I can understand that feeling," sympathized Carter as she stretched on her stool. "The Captain has been doing her best to avoid being stuck in a conversation with me."

Daniel titled his head and looked at Sam as if seeing her for the first time. Then after a pause, he uttered a small 'Oh' and played with his glasses. "You want to do the whole, you-me talk with Jac."

"Yes," growled Sam, "and the Captain has done nothing but dodge me this whole time."

The archaeologist held his hands up, palms facing Sam, in a gesture of backing off. "Whoa, Sam, don't you think you might be going at this a little too aggressively?"

It was Sam's turn to look at the other occupant of the room askew. "You're telling me that you are okay with this whole Captain O'Neill-thing? That you aren't pissed off at the deception. That it throws a wrench in all the plans you had for when Jack came back?"

Carter's voice had grown progressively louder and more heated as she rattled off her short list of complaints to her teammate. Daniel leant back almost defensively.

"It appears you have learnt nothing since O'Neill went missing several months ago, ColonelCarter," gravely intoned Teal'c as he swept into the lab.

"Teal'c?" spluttered Sam.

"Your voice could be heard from the elevator, and it would be wise to lower your voice if you wish to keep to the terms set by GeneralHammond."

Carter had the good grace to look at little abashed at getting a dressing down from the Jaf'fa.

"What brings you down here, Teal'c?" asked Daniel in an attempt to divert the Jaf'fa from burning a hole in the woman with his stare.

"I am here to prevent SG-1 from coming apart, DanielJackson."

That pronouncement was met with flat looks, which Teal'c returned. After a moment or two of simply looking at each other, the Jaf'fa moved and began to speak. "When the pair of you decided to once again engage O'Neill as part of your lives it was because you realized, that in many respects, your recent focus had been self-centered and selfish. That he was not available for reconciliation on your timetable simply allowed for the pair of you to better appreciate the situation you had left him in."

"But people were actively hiding Jack from us," cried an affronted Daniel, not liking the piercing knowledge the Jaf'fa seemed to possess.

"That is true," acknowledged Teal'c, "but were you not, just now, blaming the situation you both now find yourselves in on O'Neill when much of what has taken place was beyond her control?"

Teal'c paced the lab. "You forget that O'Neill did not choose to have her change of gender, it was imposed by outside forces. The identity of Captain O'Neill was forced upon her, and the decision to keep her identity from you both was made by others. Nor did she ask for a position as part of SG-1. That was your choice ColonelCarter."

"Why are you playing advocate for O'Neill, Teal'c?" asked a still angry Carter.

"I have no wish to see SG-1 torn apart from the inside, ColonelCarter. Neither do I wish to see someone such as O'Neill abandoned by this team for a second time – especially since both times weren't her fault."

Daniel got off his stool and strode from the lab.


	15. A Reckoning Begins

THANKS: A big thank you to Karen Joy who worked hard as my Beta on this chapter. Callie Sullivan's transcripts of the series

xxx

**FIFTEEN: A Reckoning Begins**

SGC

February 24th, 2005

0823 hrs

The week had gone steadily downhill after Teal'c's attempt to play devil's advocate for Captain O'Neill and the revelation of her identity to the rest of SG-1. Most of the team was refusing to speak to each other; Jac had used the excuse of dealing with queries from a CIA agent and the aftermath of the Spencer case to avoid having to deal with Sam or Daniel on a one-to-one basis for any more than cursory greetings. It had frustrated Teal'c no end to find that Jac wasn't doing anything to help heal the breach that was beginning to widen within SG-1.

It was on that point that the Jaf'fa finally cornered the neo-woman in the gym and challenged her to a few rounds of boxing. The resulting knockdown, drag-out brawl served to bruise Jac's body and ego to the point where she capitulated to Teal'c's 'request' that she offer an olive branch to Sam and Daniel. The oldest member of the team could not let the destructive fallout of Jac's identity compromise the unit any further. Having 'obtained' Jac's commitment to patching things up, he then went in search of Daniel.

The monkey-wrench in Teal'c's plans was SG-1's scheduled off-world trip to P9X-124 in search of the Ancient prison facility, which forced the divided team to assemble in the briefing room as General Landry went over his expectations and hopes for the mission. Priority number one was to keep the facility and anything contained within out of Ba'al's greedy clutches lest the Goa'uld find something with which to either destroy the fledgling Jaf'fa resistance or enable the conquest of the Earth.

Landry was well aware that not everything was well within the SG-1 camp as the meeting dragged on, he was able to spot that even the normally unflappable Teal'c was close to the boiling point. The scowls and angry looks that Colonel Carter and Doctor Jackson directed to Captain O'Neill were simply over-the-top and he was left to wonder just what had happened in that meeting with George Hammond. That he was not privy to such information was the excuse he then used on the Jaf'fa once the briefing had concluded and the rest of the team had exited the room. He claimed that since he was not party to whatever was revealed he felt bound by Hammond's request to stay out of it and not interfere in the running of SG-1. If the team fell apart, he would be annoyed, but felt his hands were tied by whatever secret they were all carrying.

That Landry would not intervene did not please Teal'c, but he comforted himself with the knowledge that O'Neill had at least promised an attempt to make peace with ColonelCarter and DanielJackson. After gearing up the team had regrouped in the gate room for departure, Carter held her chin high and refused to make eye contact with the three male members of her team. Daniel tried looking everywhere but at Jac or Teal'c, and the effect of which made him appear to twitch more than normal. Jac had made eye contact with Teal'c and had held it, giving the Jaf'fa a short nod to indicate that she would follow through on her promise that had been extracted from her.

As P9X-124 was revealed to them, Daniel raced off for the ruins as Carter ordered Teal'c and O'Neill to make a survey of the area for any potential hazards.

"It is something of a cucumber is it not, O'Neill?"

"Pickle, T, pickle."

The Jaf'fa nodded in understanding of the correction while Jac huffed in annoyance. "Yeah, the whole not-talking-thing is _way_ out of hand."

"Your initial avoidance of ColonelCarter was not conducive to the team working as one unit, O'Neill," rebuked Teal'c.

Jac looked away from the Jaf'fa, pretending to survey the area they walked through. "I know, I know. I just... didn't really want to get into all of _that_ right off."

"That?"

"You know."

"I do not know, O'Neill."

The younger woman glared at Teal'c. "You sure do," she hissed, jabbing a finger in the Jaf'fa's direction.

She received Teal'c's standard operating blank face for her efforts. "The whole, Sam-me _thing_," Jac eventually said after the silence began to get to her.

"Thing?" Teal'c knew that if the issues of the team were going to be sorted and packed away for good, they needed to exposed to the light of day and talked about.

"That whole _thing_, you know that we talked about during the za'tarc incident. _That_ thing." Jac made some useless gesture to the air as she tried to explain.

"That thing," repeated Teal'c as if understanding for the first time. "You refer, do you not, to your non-professional interest in ColonelCarter."

"Jeez, Teal'c, you make is sound so sordid when you say 'non-professional'."

"And you did not wish to talk about this with her?"

"Hell no!" Getting herself under better control after that outburst, which had attracted the attention of Carter who was still by the gate checking the MALP, Jac carried on in an almost hissed whisper. "_I_ wanted to talk about that four years ago and she didn't! I didn't press her then, why can't she do the same now?"

"Perhaps the issue is more important now than it was four years ago?"

"I don't see how, Teal'c, especially since she's engaged to that Shanahan creep."

That got the traditional raised eyebrow, which led Jac to slap herself on the forehead in an exaggerated manner. "She's doubting herself isn't she?" the woman asked of the Jaf'fa.

Teal'c nodded. "ColonelCarter has expressed many doubts about her relationship with PeteShanahan since you originally went missing. DanielJackson and I both believe that she is paralysed and cannot make a decision till she has settled the issue with you."

Jac snorted. "What is there to settle? She's _engaged_ to Shanahan and, oh look, I'm a woman! What the hell kind of choice is that?"

"A more complicated one that perhaps you appreciate O'Neill" Teal'c responded.

February 25th, 2005

0815 hrs

It had taken Daniel most of the previous day to go through the ruins and the writings contained therein to determine that P9X-124 wasn't the planet that they had been looking for. It had mentioned a formidable weapon capable of destroying all life in the galaxy, but not a word of the hoped-for prison facility. SG-1 had returned to the SGC empty-handed, but with orders from Landry to ship out the following day to P5X-878 now that the address was no longer locked out of the dialling computer. Landry had seen fit _not_ to question Hammond's rapid approve of that request.

In the wake of the off-world mission to P9X-124 Jac had caught Teal'c's expectant look and had gone in search of Daniel, finding the archaeologist in his office as he poured over a couple of stone tablets looking for clues about what they might expect to find on '878. Rapping on the doorframe to gain Daniel's attention, Jac managed a weak 'Hi' when the young man focused his gaze on her. Daniel immediately looked away and tried to make it look as if the tablets were even more interesting than they were only moments before.

"Daniel," Jac tried.

"What do _you_ want?"

"Ah," hesitated the Captain, "to talk to you."

Daniel snorted in derision. "And what could you possibly say that I want to hear, hmm?"

The archaeologist had slapped the tablets down hard on the table and turned to face the intruder. "What exactly can you say that will make this all right again?"

"I'm sorry?"

Blinking in surprise Daniel opened his mouth to say something, closed it when he couldn't find the words, and then repeated this a couple more times till he eventually said, "Well, er, that is... Do you even know what you are apologizing for?"

Jac gave Daniel a lopsided smile that sent a small thrill running down Daniel's spine, until his brain reminded his body who it really was behind those eyes and he shuddered in revulsion. "Offense is the best defence, they say," added Jac.

"So you thought a unilateral 'sorry' would be all that is required?" Daniel tried to hold on to his anger, no matter how much Teal'c had argued that his was simply being stubborn and acting like a three-year-old.

"No, but I thought it might be enough to disarm your anger long enough so that we could talk. Obviously I was wrong," sighed Jac and she turned to leave the room since Daniel still looked like he was upset with her. She would have to tell Teal'c that she had tried her best.

"No, wait!" exclaimed Daniel as the young woman moved to leave. "What did you want to say to me?"

"Ah, gee, I didn't have anything written down specifically. I guess I wanted to simply talk this issue out till we can work together again." Jac rubbed her upper arms as if she was cold. "I loved being a part of SG-1 as Jack, and it is just as great as I am now. I don't want that to fall apart, especially since so little else in my life brings me the same sort of joy."

"So this is all about being able to go offworld?"

Jac shook her head. "No, it is about the fact that you three made me feel accepted, even if you had doubts about my background, and that really made me believe that I could make a go of this new life that I've been given."

The archaeologist could understand all that, "and the whole flirting thing?"

Captain O'Neill took a step back from Daniel. "Hey, that was all T's doing, nothing to do with me _at all_."

"So you weren't flirting with me then?"

"No. No. Never. No way. Uh uh. Eww."

Daniel could feel a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Jac had sounded like a teenaged girl just then and he briefly pondered just what sort of changes had been forced on Jack the man as a new body and hormones went to work on his mind. "Well, that's good, 'cause I wasn't flirting with you either," explained Daniel.

The two locked gazes for a moment or two before bursting out laughing. The major cause of unrest between the pair had just been swept away in a moment of honesty that took all the resentment over the secrets and lies with it. Jac was glad that she and Daniel were back on an even footing, but she also knew that reconciling with Colonel Carter was going to be a damn sight harder and probably very messy emotionally.

"Damn you, Jac! I was planning on holding on to my mood for a good few days longer."

Jac slapped Daniel companionably on the back and giggled which drew an amused smirk from the young man. "So," began Jac, "any ideas on how we can prank Teal'c back for this?"

0856 hrs

After a relaxed breakfast with Daniel and a visibly relieved Teal'c, Jac had gone to visit L'masee until it was time for SG-1 to venture out to P5X-878. The IOC had relaxed their stance towards the turncoat Jaf'fa somewhat; L'masee now allowed to explore the less sensitive areas of the base and to peruse printed materials and video media that didn't reveal too much about the geopolitical make up of the world outside the mountain. Not that L'masee had been made aware that the base he was currently in was under a mountain.

Because of the relaxation in the status of the Jaf'fa, Jac found L'masee in the gym working away at a station. Just to the left of the doorway was L'masee's shadow, an airman standing at guard and watching the Jaf'fa's movements carefully.

"Hey, L'masee," Jac greeted the young warrior casually.

"O'Neill."

"How are they treating you?"

"Very well, O'Neill. I now have considerable freedom of movement compared to when I first arrived. I am glad that my loyalty to you has met with approval." L'masee had halted his work out to engage in conversation.

"Yeah," agreed Jac with some hesitation. Depending on how things went with people like the IOA, L'masee could easily end up stuck on the base for the foreseeable future, without even the provision for travel offworld. "Have you given any thought to your future?"

"My future is your future. Where ever you go I will be there to stand by your side."

The conviction in the young Jaf'fa's voice and steely look in his eyes precluded O'Neill from making a flippant remark in order to assuage her own guilt at the idea that things might not turn out as L'masee envisaged them. The Jaf'fa had pledged his life to her, yet Jac was a member of the USAF and thus not in complete command of her own life. How was she to do her best by this young man if she could be suddenly posted elsewhere and L'masee was left to his own devices on a base full of people he barely knows?

"And if I am to go where you are unable to follow?"

"Such a situation will not arise."

Jac looked blankly at the warrior. "I've news for you, L'masee. I've been off base already several times since you joined the 'dark side' as it were."

An angry furrow formed in the middle of L'masee's forehead. "Then what is my purpose here, O'Neill?"

"That hasn't been decided yet."

"Do I not get a say in my future?"

"Well, if it were up to me, or even General Landry, then the answer would be most definitely 'yes'."

L'masee narrowed his eyes. "This means that the decision is not up to you, does it not?"

Jac nodded.

"Then which warrior is the master of my fate?"

"Ah, now, well...you see, L'masee, there's the snag. Or the rub as Hamlet once put it."

The young Jaf'fa's face has dissolved into puzzled annoyance by this point, something Jac quickly recognized and gave her the impetus to push on with the answers L'masee wanted. "The IOA make the decision about what happens to you."

"What sort of warrior's name is eye-oh-aye?"

Jac rubbed the back of her neck and sighed. "It's not one person and I don't recall any of them serving the armed forces in any capacity."

"O'Neill," bit out L'masee, "is my fate to be decided by a group of women sitting around a washing well?"

February 27th, 2005

1356 hrs

Two days later and the planned trip to P5X-878 looked to be in jeopardy given the news that Bra'tac brought to the SGC. The rebel Jaf'fa were anxious to strike out against the system lords and start claiming overt victories instead of the covert subversion of Jaf'fa ranks that they had been forced to make do with previously. General Landry wanted SG-1 there so that the SGC could have some firsthand intelligence on the status of the galaxy and perhaps, merely by being there, keep the rebel Jaf'fa from overreaching themselves.

The situation was immediately compounded by a message from the Tok'Ra suggesting that Ba'al was less than a day's journey from '878. Jac had argued that the SGC couldn't afford to let the sadistic Goa'uld have the chance to gain control of whatever technology might be found in the Ancient prison facility. This had all led to Landry assigning Daniel, Sam, and Teal'c to watch the rebel Jaf'fa's actions from the relative safety of Bra'tac's ha'tak. Jac had been stunned for a moment or two after _that_ pronouncement and was about to argue with the General when he explained himself.

While three-quarters of SG-1 were to watch the rebel Jaf'fa, Captain O'Neill was about to be given a chance to prove herself in the field and justify the influence of the government in placing her at the SGC. Hank still wasn't comfortable with the fact that the Captain was effectively a plant, albeit a supposedly benign one. Everyone else on the base hadr proved himself or herself under fire prior to his assumption of control of the SGC, or had been chosen by himself afterwards. This young woman had to prove herself in his eyes and this seemed like the first true opportunity where little could go wrong. The rest of SG-1 would be dealing with the major issue while O'Neill could show her mettle on a mission where they had a clear head start on the opposition and a good idea of what they were looking for.

Jac sat there gobsmacked as Landry explained that, not only would she be leading the team during the '878 mission, but this was also going to be an opportunity for her to justify her faith in L'masee's change of allegiance. The young Jaf'fa was being assigned, temporarily, to her team, General Landry hoping that if L'masee acquitted himself well during the mission that it might go some distance towards letting the IOA relax its stance on the alien rebel. At this point, while Jac still looked on in somewhat stunned disbelief, Hank dropped a pile of manila folders in front of the young woman. "These are the files of those SG members from teams currently on standby, or out of action due to other members being unavailable. I want to know your two choices by fifteen hundred hours as your team will be going through the gate at seventeen-thirty hours."

There was a definite silence.

"Understood, Captain?"

"Understood, Sir!" snapped Jac as her training kicked in.

The rest of SG-1 had been a little taken aback by Landry's decisive means of dealing with the two pressing issues, and Teal'c had to admit that it was a sound choice on the General's part given how awkwardly the team had been interacting since the revelation of Jac's past.

1423 hrs

Sam stared at the telephone in bemusement.

She, Daniel, and Teal'c were due to ship out in less than an hour to meet up with Bra'tac and it now looked like Pete had finally run out of patience. Her fiancée had phoned to explain that he had a surprise that he wanted to share with her that in some way pertained to the shared life they were planning-despite her attempts to put the brakes on the relationship and slow things down so she could sort out what she really wanted.

Dropping the receiver back into its cradle Sam had to wonder if she would ever come to a decision. She had always been good at ducking a decision if it had anything to do with her personal life and now realized that she had been using the issues at the SGC has an excuse for not dealing with them. After all, hadn't she been about to plead for more time due to the urgent issue of the rebel Jaf'fa? Before that, America and Russia had almost gone to war. Prior to that, there was the Replicator version of herself. Before that it had been that Ba'al had captured Captain O'Neill, and before that General O'Neill had gone missing...

Sitting down on her lab stool, Sam had to reflect that she had been putting things off in the hopes that at some point there would be a lull in the storm that was her work-life, just enough for things to stand still long enough for her to make decisions. Yet things were already in flux once more. Pete was upping his involvement after respecting her need for time and space, and she had to forgive him for that because he'd been reasonably patience and understanding so far, and she could already see the signs that Daniel had forgiven Jac for the deception about her identity.

Now she and the two 'boys' would be going off-world without Jac, who would going into her own potentially dangerous situation, her issues with the gender-changed O'Neill still unsettled. She knew that she should seek Jac out now and work out the outstanding issues between them while they were both stuck on the base preparing for missions in the field. Yet she didn't budge from the stool upon which she sat, fear and indecision already sapping her will to deal with the situation.

In reality, it boiled down to a handful of choices. Did she forge ahead with a life with Pete, even if she now doubted the strength of her affections for the police officer, and consign _Jack_ to her past by settling for a simple working friendship with Captain O'Neill? Or did she end things with Pete and settle for a simple working friendship with Captain O'Neill? On the other hand, did her oft-ignored and sublimated affection for Jack translate to Jac? That last option asked for a lot: dropping Pete in the face of the engagement; the ability to ignore Jac's new gender and focus solely on the personality. Sam was already secure enough in herself to know she _wasn't_ a lesbian and not interested in Jac physically; and the willingness to violate those codes of Air Force conduct that she hadn't the strength to break when Jac had still been male.

Sam slammed her fist down hard on the benchtop in frustration. Why the hell did the decision have to be so damn hard! She was being asked to give up something she'd pined for these eight long years. Was she simply being perverse, wanting Jack back now that he was completely out of her reach as Jac?

1730 hrs

Jac had watched the rest of SG-1 depart from the safety of the gate control room, Walter doing his usual routine spiel. At least he hadn't tried to improvise as he had a couple of weeks into General O'Neill's tenure as base commander: Walter had taken to doing his usual 'Chevron five, locked' in a variety of languages. Monday had been Maori Tuesday was Thai. By the time they had reached French Friday Jack had had enough and had put his foot down.

Jac had caught Sam's eye just before the older woman turned to enter the event horizon and knew without a doubt that when they next saw each other they were finally going to have to sit down and _talk_. She may have become a woman, and Sara had done her best to coach Jac in liking it, but Jac just did not _do_ 'talking'. She'd much rather have a gun and shoot something any day.

Speaking of shooting, Jac recalled with a grin the look on L'masee's face at the news that not only was the young Jaf'fa able to go off-world, but he was to go on a mission under the command of Jac. Just the single thing he'd pledged his life to do. The Jaf'fa was now currently standing by her side at the bottom of the ramp, outfitted with his choice of gear from the SGC stores. Making up the foursome were Lt. Sanderson and Captain Mitchell Foreman of SG-18, the latter someone whom Jac knew had shown great courage and skill when off world.

At last, the gate exploded into life and the team put their best foot forward and arrived on P5X-878. Jac came to a halt just on the other side of the event horizon as she took in the familiar landscape of '878 and had to marvel at the thought that it had only been five months since that fateful day when her world had been turned upside down. The three members of her makeshift team looked to their seemingly frozen leader as they fanned out to take secure positions around the gate.

Finally, Jac shook herself out of her daze and let a small smile slip onto her face as she saw her team had done what was needed without her command. The wormhole snapping out of existence behind her Jac unclipped her P-90 and walked to the head of her team, the three others falling into line behind her with Foreman taking up their six.

"Right," she said as they marched on, "Keep your heads up and eyes open. Something on this planet caused SG-5 to go missing and I'd rather not have the same happen to you." Jac was also eager not to have to deal with one of her team- mates turning into a woman, but she wasn't about to voice that possibility.

It took the foursome only fifteen minutes to reach the ruins that SG-5 had originally been investigating when Jac had encountered her _small_ problem.

"What are we looking for, Captain?" asked Sanderson.

"Ba'al is on his way here because he believes that the Ancients had some form of prison on this planet. We've evidence that he is probably right in his belief. Therefore, we need to find it, save what we can, and destroy the rest to prevent it falling into his hands. After being on the receiving end of some of those prison devices there is no way in hell I'm going to let Ba'al have access to more."

Sanderson, Foreman, and L'masee could all hear the determination in the Captain's voice and were nodding their head slightly in agreement even as their eyes scanned their surroundings for danger or clues. Jac cleared her throat in vague embarrassment at her grandstanding and looked away from her team for a moment. "Anyway," she continued, "I have a feeling we need to look around away from here. I've the nagging feeling that what we are looking for is underground."

"So, some form of underground entrance," mused Foreman.

With a nod from Jac, the four of them began to spread out from the ruins, searching the undergrowth and clumps of trees for further clues to the Ancient prison complex they sought. As she searched Jac knew that the other three had simply taken her word for what they were looking for, unaware that her supposition of an underground facility was based purely on a niggling impression on her mind—the same one which had nagged at her on her last visit to this planet back in September. Between these two visits, Jac had been able to devote a little time to thinking through why she had felt so strongly about this idea and had come to her conclusion that it was simply a scrap of knowledge left over from having the Ancient database dumped into her head – twice.

Satisfied that her intuition was simply the by-product of her interactions with Ancient tech, Jac nodded to herself and continued her investigations of the brush she was hip deep in to the west of the ruins. She was interrupted in her search by the crackle of her radio and her name being called. She thumbed it, "Go ahead."

"O'Neill, I believe that I have found what we're looking for," replied Foreman.

Standing and stretching Jack looked back east in the direction that Foreman and gone. "Understood, Lieutenant?"

"Ma'am?" Sanderson was now on the line somewhere to the north of the ruins.

"Foreman has found what we're looking for. Head back to the ruins and go east. We'll meet you at the ruins and accompany you."

"Understood."

Jac turned to see L'masee several metres away probing at a bush with his staff weapon. Calling his name, she waved him to approach. Once he'd done so she explained that Foreman had found what they were looking for and the pair quickly set off back in the direction of the ruins. Sanderson was already there when they arrived, munching on a food bar as he waited. As she and L'masee reached the ruins, he stood to attention and stuffed the half-eaten bar in a pocket of his BDUs.

It took them ten minutes to reach Foreman who was waiting for them, leaning against what at first appeared to be a large mound of earth with his P-90 at the ready.

"O'Neill," he greeted his fellow Captain as she and the others arrived.

"What do you have for me, Foreman?"

"Take a look," he said, gesturing at the mound

Foreman was right in believing that he'd found what they were looking for. The mound was about one-and-a-half time the height of the average person and roughly four-to-five metres in diameter. It was covered in small shrubs and plants and surrounded by several trees, which helped to disguise its existence, on the north side of the barrow was a cave-like entrance that led to a sliding metal door.

Jac led the team to the door and Foreman commented that the door had refused to open for him. Jac gave him a look to suggest that he should have waited for backup before doing so and then speculated that perhaps it was simply dead after millennia of disuse. Jac felt out the seal around the edge of the door and with the help of the others they were eventually able to move the door back an inch. They then had to retreat after a lung full of the stale air, Jac recalling Daniel on one occasion had said that sometimes the air in newly opened tombs was toxic and dig teams had to wait until the air cleared and freshened.

Digging into her pack Jac fished out a breathing mask, equipped with an hour of air, and began putting it on. Foreman and Sanderson followed suit as L'masee went back to forcing the door to slide further open. Once it was fully open and the humans had their masks in place, Jac once again led the way as they flicked on their flashlights and ventured into the darkened stairwell.

"Just as well they put in stairs in," remarked Foreman as they descended. "I'd hate to have to deal with an out of order elevator."

Ha'tak  
1748 hrs

Teal'c, Sam, and Daniel assembled on the bridge of the ha'tak that Bra'tac was currently commanding since its acquisition by the Free Jaf'fa from a 'careless' Goa'uld.

"They are late," commented Teal'c.

"Or they're not coming."

"Were that the case, Rak'nor would have sent word," argued Teal'c in response to Daniel's suggestion.

Bra'tac was ever the pessimist. "If he were able to do so."

Carter, meanwhile, was unhappy with not only the mission but also the notion that Jac might soon be facing down Ba'al again and did not like the idea of the Captain undergoing a _third_ round of torture from the Goa'uld. "Maybe we should reconsider the mission," she said.

"This is not an SGC mission," Teal'c said, reminding them of their capacity as observers only. "Reconsidering is not an option."

"Look," argued Daniel, always keen for a less violent solution, "I know the timing of these first few surprise attacks is crucial, and..."

"We're just here as observers," continued Carter, "but right now I'm observing the fact that if you take on one of Amateratsu's motherships without proper backup, you could get yourself killed."

"Us observers too!"

Bra'tac simply looked at them as if they were children who didn't understand. "Many such attacks have been coordinated simultaneously across the galaxy – each one designed to create a strategic weakness in the forces of the System Lords."

"And if even one fails... I know!" Daniel was almost shouting.

"The rebel Jaf'fa have gone to great lengths to acquire the security codes currently being used by the System Lords. If all goes according to plan, they will believe we are allies and lower the shields," interjected Teal'c smoothly.

"If all goes according to plan," It was Daniel's turn to play pessimist.

"Once the shields are lowered," continued Teal'c, "the Jaf'fa contingent aboard this vessel should be sufficient to overwhelm any initial resistance we may encounter."

"We have allies within the ranks of Amateratsu's Jaf'fa who will also help facilitate our attacks," added Bra'tac hoping to quash any further doubts. "Once the others witness the death of their false god, they will realize the truth and join our ranks."

"Isn't the fact that we haven't heard from Rak'nor kind of a bad sign?"

Bra'tac and Teal'c looked at each other with a vaguely annoyed expression over the Tau'ri persistence at the idea the plan might fail. Any further debate was abandoned when various read-outs spewed across the main view screen of the command deck.

"What is it?"

"Ship's sensors have detected a vessel closing in on our position," Bra'tac answered Daniel's question as the screen switched from read-out to a view of space and the approaching ship. "Ha'tak class."

"Rak'nor?" pressed Daniel.

"Unlikely. Rak'nor would have hailed long before his approach," stated Teal'c.

"Then it has to be Amateratsu," Carter said logically. "Shouldn't we get out of here?"

That the two Jaf'fa said nothing and looked disinclined to opt for retreat led Daniel to point out, "Teal'c, the odds are not in our favor."

"They never are, DanielJackson," Teal'c said, favouring the younger man with an amused quirk of his mouth to which Daniel shrugged.

"I am hailing them and transmitting the security codes," Bra'tac explained as he punched the buttons of the control panel in front of him. Moments later the ship rocked under the impact of weapons fire. "They have fired on us." The ship rumbled once more. "Shield strength is down sixty percent."

"How is that possible?" was Teal'c's worried query.

Carter as ever was already pondering a scientific mystery. "What the hell did they hit us with?"

Teal'c broke from the group huddled round the controls and strode to the weapons console, announcing that he was, "Returning fire." Then after a pause he added, "Our weapons are ineffective."

His proclamation was punctuated by the ha'tak rocking once more under fire.

"We have lost shields," pronounced Bra'tac with a little worry creeping into his voice.

"Now can we get out of here?" Carter asked.

"Navigational controls are not responding. We must evacuate."

"Glider bay?" suggested Daniel to Bra'tac's response.

"We can use the rings to transport to the planet below and escape through the Stargate," Teal'c said as an alternate option.

The four headed through the myriad corridors of the ship in search of the ring room to make their escape, only to have Teal'c gesture for them to stop as the entered a new corridor.

Carter asked the obvious, "What is it?"

At the other end of the corridor the doors hummed open and swarm of Replicator bugs began covering the corridor from floor to ceiling.

"That's not good," moaned Daniel.

"This way," said Teal'c and led them in a new direction only to have the Replicators follow. Sam and Daniel paused a moment to shoot at a few with their guns, only to have no effect. Just as the pair made to move once more and catch up with Bra'tac and Teal'c Daniel disappeared in a swarm of lights that Carter recognized as a transporter beam.

"Daniel!" she shouted in surprise.

"ColonelCarter," Teal'c called to induce the stunned Sam into moving before the Replicators overtook her.

The three made their escape.

P5X-878

1832 hrs

The complex that they had found wasn't as neatly and simply laid out as Jac had hoped for, the organization of the prison building a far cry from the ordered elegance of other Ancient founded structures that the SGC had uncovered so far. This revelation led Jac to speculate that such apparent chaos was a deliberate choice on the part of the Ancients and not a result of the complex expanding and developing on an ad hoc basis. The Captain has the feeling that the design was in order so that, _should_ an inmate attempt an escape, the layout would hamper and frustrate until those in charge could subdue the escapee. At least that was her explanation to Sanderson as to why all the corridors looked the same. That was all well and good, but it didn't actually get the team any closer to their goal, which was hoped to be the main processing room.

Sanderson was wisely keeping his mouth shut rather than voicing his frustrations beyond his comment on all the corridors being identical. Foreman however was unable to do the same, remarking sarcastically that, "If I wanted to go in circles all day I could have stayed at home and spun around on the spot. At least then, the dizzy spell afterwards would have been amusing. As it is all I have at the moment is a headache coming on."

"Stow such comments, Foreman," barked Jac in a slightly harried tone as they entered another chamber that, to no one's surprise, looked identical to every other chamber they had come across so far.

"That makes for one hundred and thirty-two chambers," idly commented Sanderson, perhaps proving that his common sense had run out.

This was her first mission in command and for Jac it was already turning to custard. They may have found the entrance she had believed existed, but since then, they had made no progress whatsoever. The complex seemed to consist solely of identical corridors and identical, blank, featureless rooms. At this rate, they'd remain lost in the bowels of the facility till such time as the SGC pulled them or Ba'al caught up with them. Jac checked her watch and found they had wasted quite a bit of time staring at white walls.

It was fortunate the very next chamber was a dead end, which broke the pattern and provided the team with some form of relief. The far end of the chamber had a dais on which sat a large, vaguely triangular pedestal and in front of which was a console at hip height. With a nod, L'masee and Sanderson took to covering the doorway as the two Captains approached the console.

"Well?"

Jac looked at Foreman incredulously for a moment before recalling that _she_ was supposed to be the Ancients expert here. Turning back to the console, she reached out and touched it, the system of controls springing to life and the dull glow of the room rising to an almost blinding sharpness. The team all made various noises of pain at having their eyeballs seared by the light until it faded slightly and left them standing in a well-lit room.

"Well, I guess that means this place is no longer on standby."

"Standby?" asked Sanderson from the doorway.

Jac nodded. "I think this place has been ticking over on standby all this time. It must have activated for a short period of time when SG-5 went missing, but as nothing else happened since then it went back into hibernation."

Moving from the console Jac stood up on the dais and investigated the pedestal. A few deft touches and suddenly the room fell back into the dull glow once more, but under the light of their lights the other three could see three ZPMs beginning to rise smoothly out of the top of the pedestal. Once they'd stopped moving Jac took a closer look with her flashlight and grinned at the evidence she'd found to support her theory. "Three ZPMs," she announced, "Two of which appear to have run down completely. The complex must be operating off this last one which looks to be at half strength."

"Which fits with the standby idea of yours," said Foreman.

"Exactly!" exclaimed Jac. She touched the controls once more and ZPMs sank back into the pedestal. "Give the system a moment or two and it should have the air breathable in here, which is a good thing since we were getting low on our supplies."

"Won't we want to take the half working one back to the SGC with us? After all, we could then use it to dial Atlantis and find out what is going on?" Foreman asked.

"We can. But we need to find out about this place first and I don't think we'll make much headway unless the system is running, and for that we need power," explained Jac.

With the last of the ZPMs in place, the lighting sprang back to full strength and the team turned their flashlights off.

"So, where do we start?" asked Sanderson.

Returning to the console in front of the dais Jac spend a few minutes wrapping her head around the operating system before she was able to call up a floating, projected display and then several more minutes passed until she was able to fill the display with a schematic of the complex floor plan.

"It's huge," commented Foreman as he fished a datapad out of his pack for Jac.

Hooking the datapad into the system Jac set it to download as many files as it could possibly hold. "That thing is going to take a while to download, so I suggest we go and see what else we can find."

The trip away from the dead end 'power room' as Foreman had dubbed it was slightly more surreal than the dusk filled original journey as the previously empty chambers were now filled with floating displays and consoles that must have risen out of the floor when the system had been awoken. Tracing their way back to what appeared to be a main tunnel, the team picked a new direction and followed the corridor to see what could be discovered.

Sanderson saw it first, spotting something on a display out the corner of his eye.

"Ma'am!" he called out as Jac was on the verge of exiting the chamber through the unexplored exit.

Jac turned on the threshold. "Lieutenant?"

"Take a look at this, I think I saw something." Here Sanderson gestured at the floating display in front of him.

The team gathered at the display. "What is it you think you saw?" queried Foreman.

"Give it a sec; it seems to be a repeating pattern."

They watched until Sanderson shouted, "There!"

There on the display were the terrified faces of SG-5.

SGC

1843 hrs

Landry and Jacob Carter were just stepping into the gateroom as Sam, Teal'c, and Bra'tac made their way down the ramp from the event horizon. When she saw her father standing there, Carter couldn't help but exclaim, "Dad!"

When she reached the bottom of the ramp, Jacob was ready with a hug and a kiss for his daughter.

"What happened, Teal'c?" asked Landry as the gate disengaged with a rush. "Where's Doctor Jackson?"

"He was beamed away before our very eyes."

"By Replicators," Teal'c said, adding to Bra'tac's explanation of the archaeologist's absence.

"Just Daniel?" asked Jacob.

Sam nodded. "There's only one reason I can think of: my duplicate. She knows the greatest threat the Replicators have ever known is the disrupter technology that General O'Neill built using Ancient knowledge."

"I understood that she's immune to that now," said Landry.

"Yes," agreed Sam, "but Replicators always seek out the most advanced technology. She may be worried that there's other Ancient technology out there that could be a threat to her and the rest of the Replicators."

"DanielJackson had access to the knowledge of the Ancients when he was ascended," pointed out the younger Jaf'fa.

"I thought he didn't retain those memories?"

Carter looked at her father. "We don't know that for sure. Daniel has remembered certain things from when he was ascended. She may think that everything she needs to know about the Ancients is buried in his subconscious. If it is, she'll find it."

The group were rendered silent by this thought and quietly shuffled out of the gate room. Jacob brought Sam to a halt, a little of the way down the corridor for a brief, private chat.

"Sorry I haven't seen you since Christmas, Sam," he began with an apology. "This business with Ba'al has kept us busy. But I've kept my ear open for anything on Jack. I've not heard a whisper so I'd have to conclude he's somewhere on Earth."

"Actually, we found out where he is only a short while ago," admitted Sam.

"Really, where? And why didn't he contact you three?"

"It's complicated, Dad."

"It always is, Sam," he commented, prompting Sam to recall her own reflections on her stalling over making a decision about Pete.

Deciding to leave the matter of Jack until his daughter felt more comfortable about it (or when he could get Teal'c alone to question the Jaf'fa) Jacob followed her to the briefing room where they took up seats at the table. Rather than waffle, Jacob got down to the heart of the matter. "The Tok'Ra have operatives in Ba'al's inner circle, including one of his high-ranking lieutenants. According to the latest intelligence, the ranks of the Jaf'fa rebellion are re-pledging their loyalty to the Goa'uld by the thousands."

"But the Goa'uld are losing the war," pointed out Sam.

"The Jaf'fa have never seen the likes of such creatures. Many could see these Replicators as a plague, an evil punishment brought upon all for daring to stray in their beliefs and betray their gods."

Teal'c nodded in agreement with Bra'tac's assessment. "This situation has dealt the Jaf'fa rebellion a serious blow. Even if we were to somehow defeat the Replicators, the Goa'uld would undoubtedly take credit, thereby solidifying Jaf'fa loyalty as well as their belief in the Goa'uld as gods."

"And I'd like to know just how we're going to pull that off," said Landry.

"We haven't had much luck, Sir. The inert Replicator cells left behind by my duplicate haven't given us any clues as to how to fight the immunity she's developed. As far as I know, Thor hasn't made much progress in modifying the disrupter technology either."

"Have we heard from the Asgaard at all?" asked Landry.

"Not since we used the disruptor technology to free their planet from the Replicators," Teal'c answered.

"Then I guess we should make the attempt to get in contact," muttered Landry as he stood to dismiss the meeting.

Sam meanwhile was coming to terms with the fact that she'd managed to lose a second team member within the space of six months, first Captain O'Neill to Ba'al and now Daniel to her Replicator copy. It didn't matter that they had O'Neill back or that the SGC would move heaven and earth to recover Daniel, but it did make her feel rather sloppy and careless with regard to her team. She sat by herself in the briefing room turning over recent events in her head, Teal'c and Bra'tac

For Landry it had been a quick trip down to the gateroom to task Harriman with sending a team to contact the Asgaard and then back to his office where a veritable mountain of paper needed pushing. This had not been what he'd signed on for when he'd been a fresh-faced Air Force recruit. But then again, given how his knee now played up in cold weather it was probably best he sat in an air-conditioned office. Slumping into his comfortable chair, he reached to his 'In' box and pulled the top manila folder off the pile. He opened it and grimaced: supply requisition for the toilets.

With a sigh, he pulled the twelve sheets of paper from the folder and held them up in front of him, his eyes slowly coming to focus on the forest of words that covered the page like a rash. There was a rap on the door, which provided him with a sudden, and very welcome, intrusion.

"Come in."

The door opened to reveal Carter. "Sir," she began as she walked into the room and closed the door behind her, "I'm sorry to bother you but..."

With the experience of having been in Carter's position himself, Landry anticipated what she wanted to say. "I'm only gonna say this once, Colonel: what happened to Doctor Jackson was not your fault."

That it seemed wasn't enough for Carter and Landry dropped the pile of papers he held back into their folder.

"She knows he may hold key Ancient knowledge because of me. She's out there because of me. I basically gave her the means to counter the only effective weapon we have against her."

"And I gave you permission to work with her," countered Landry. "Unless we suddenly have a time machine to go back and fix it, we simply have to live with our regrets."

"I understand, Sir." Carter made to move back towards the office door. "By the way, Sir, SG-1 all agreed that we would never use a time machine to do that. I mean, for all we know, it could just make things worse."

There was a tap on the door and Harriman appeared on the threshold. "Sir, we're receiving a message from Thor. He said he's ready to trans—"

He gave up on his message as Sam was swiftly dissolved in the glow of an Asgaard transporter beam.

Landry grunted in vague amusement. "They got here quick."

P5X-878

1851 hrs

It had taken Jac, along with Foreman's datapad, at least seven minutes to hack into the terminal that accompanied the screen that displayed SG-5. At least, during that time, the datapad had indicated that the air was breathable and all had been able to remove their gear. Sanderson and Foreman had taken up positions facing _away_ from the screen so that they didn't have to look upon the fear-filled visages of SG-5, their still images mocking them. L'masee simply ignored the image either through a lack of fear, superior Jaf'fa training not to flinch in the face of something that scared him, or through simply a desire not to fail Jac.

Jac herself worked with gritted teeth, acting with sheer willpower _not_ to look at the display as she fought with the Ancient computer system, as she wrestled with the datapad. SG-5 had been with her when the accident had taken place and had even returned to '878 in order to look for a cause, if not a cure. That a cure might still be in the offing she refused to consider, focusing on freeing the four men who had gone missing five months earlier.

"What happened to them?" mused Foreman, unwilling to turn his head even to ask Jac the question.

"This place is a prison, or so Daniel guessed," said Jac as she thumbed through another screen of data. "If that is the case then perhaps this is the Ancient equivalent of a holding cell."

"A holding cell?"

Jac muttered to herself for a moment before answering Sanderson's question. "This place is supposed to work along the lines of the time fits the crime. Doctor Jackson and Colonel Carter saw people they knew killing them because the prison device was doing the best it could to find things to punish them with. _My_ guess is that the computer hasn't been able to decide what to do with SG-5 yet and so they're just sitting there in the system – trapped."

"Enough of a prison if you ask me," Sanderson said.

"Are they aware of where they are?" Foreman was concerned about the state of mind the men might be in after all this time.

"No idea. Not till I can get the system to release them."

"Is that possible?"

Jac angrily waded through more lines of data looking for a hole that she could exploit. "Carter was able to confuse the device and I was able to turn it off. I'm no Colonel Carter when it comes to computers, but I think I might be able to pull it off."

With a few more quick types at the keyboard, Jac gave a small roar of triumph. L'masee raised his eyebrow in a manner that would make Teal'c proud.

"I've created a user identity for myself so that when I try and access the system it won't throw me out. Or worse, decide I've committed a crime and punish me somehow."

Jac moved from her squatting position by the console base to a sitting one, datapad in her hands, and closed her eyes. Recalling how she'd worked with previous devices, the one back at the SGC most recently, Jac found it was quite easy to navigate the flow of the system until she found what she was looking for. It was a matter of a few precise thoughts for SG-5 to be freed, although Jac did complete the operation while mentally looking over her shoulder should the system suddenly decide that she _wasn't_ a registered user.

SG-5 found themselves facing three raised weapons and almost responded in kind until they realized that the three men they faced were bedecked in SGC uniforms. With a nod from Foreman, the rest of his team lowered their weapons and greetings were exchanged, SG-5 shocked to learn that what had seemed like only minutes for them in limbo had actually been almost half a year. That was when Captain O'Neill slipped out of her trancelike state and stood up, brushing imaginary dust from her BDUs as she did so.

"Welcome back, SG-5," she casually said to the five-man team.

"O'Neill," managed Major Hallan who was surprised to see that the General was _still_ female. Surely, SG-1 would have done something about that by now.

"You know the Captain?" Foreman asked Hallan, intrigued.

Catching Jac's frown Hallan gave Foreman a short nod. "Knew of her shortly before she was assigned to the SGC." O'Neill's thankful smile that briefly graced her face before Foreman looked her way was enough to let Hallan know he'd said the right thing for now.

Uncoupling Foreman's datapad from the console she ran a new program and was glad to find that she was able to access the computer core now without having to 'mind meld' with the computer. Carter's Human-Ancient interface was working nicely. She brought up the schematic that they had seen before in the power room.

"Where to next?" asked Sanderson.

"Back to the other datapad to see how it is progressing. At least that was the plan. Having SG-5 with us changes things a little." She looked to Hallan. "Do you boys think you can hang out with us for a little longer before returning to the SGC?"

Hallan looked to the other four of his team and received nods. "Sure do."

"Listen up then. Major, you're in command of one team. You'll take this datapad with a plan of the complex, along with Captains Layton and Foreman, and Lieutenants Mark and Sanderson. See what you can find. Radio if you discover anything interesting. The rest of us will head back to the power room and retrieve the other datapad."

"Agreed," nodded Hallan. "Let's make tracks then, men. This place isn't going to investigate itself."

The team of five followed Foreman from the chamber, datapad clutched in one of Foreman's hands. Jac turned back to the other three who were waiting. "Right, back to the power room. Lead the way will you, L'masee?"

The Jaf'fa nodded in compliance and led the party from the room, Jac hanging back at their six to cover them all. The return journey to the power room was dull, although of some slight interest to Granger and James the two scientist members of SG-5, and soon three of them were watching Jac check the second datapad for the status of the download. She sighed slightly, knowing that between the two datapads they would have only a minute fraction of the knowledge stored in the prison computer system. That was simply a constraint caused by the limited memory of the datapads.

She strolled through the information she was able to access about the prison and wondered just what it was that Ba'al hoped to find. Then she saw it listed in the log. A DNA resequencer, a device similar to that which Nirrti had once used in an attempt to create a hok'taur host for herself. It was a sobering thought to realize that had SG-5 not been caught up by the prison computer system that they may have discovered such a device months ago—and she might have been able to use it immediately. After all the only differences between herself and Jack were her gender and her age.

A Sharp beep interrupted the quiet conversation that Granger and James were having.

"Okay, this datapad isn't going to get any more stuffed," announced Jac as she disconnected from the console.

She put the datapad in her backpack and began pulling out cakes of C4. Once she'd made a pile beside her bag, she zipped it up and put it back on. She toggled her radio, "Major Hallan?"

\Go ahead, O'Neill.\

"Get all the C4 together that you can and start lobbing it in vital structural spots. We'll want a way to bury this place for good should Ba'al come calling without us having a way to drive him off."

\Understood. Hallan out.\

Jac turned to the waiting group and gave them a tight, but fairly bright smile. Environmental scientist Matthew Granger was almost lost in that smile and it took a nudge from fellow teammate David James for him to gather himself and follow L'masee out of the chamber, Jac having already decided to head in the direction of the DNA resequencer.

The _Daniel Jackson_

1853 hrs

"Hello again, Samantha Carter," was the greeting Carter received once she'd been reassembled onboard the Asgaard vessel.

"Hi, Thor," she replied with a wave.

"Apologies for not arriving sooner, but the Replicator problem did not simply go away because we had freed our planet. I had planned to come when we learned of a manipulation of O'Neill's DNA, but my ship was badly damaged in a Replicator attack. It is only now that a window of opportunity appeared."

"You knew," questioned Sam when heard this. "You knew that Jack's DNA had been changed. I don't believe this! If you'd turned up shortly afterwards we'd have found out what had happened months ago instead of all this time wasted trying to learn about what had happened!"

"To what do you refer, Samantha Carter?"

"Nothing. Forget it, Thor. Although you will get a _surprise _when you see Jac."

"Then it is a matter that can wait," decided Thor. "Meanwhile, I have already transported your research and the remains of the human form Replicator to this lab. We may continue our work from here."

"Any progress on your end?" asked Sam in an attempt to stop dwelling on the Jac issue as she walked over to the small table on which the remains of what was once an arm belonging to the human form Replicator copy of herself.

"I have yet to isolate the cipher the human form Replicator introduced to render the disrupter weapon ineffective."

"Well, given the situation, I think it's time to take more drastic steps."

"You are suggesting we attempt to trigger a subspace connection between the remains of the arm and the rest of the Replicators so that we may search for the cipher among their communications data."

"Too wild and crazy?" postulated Sam when she heard the idea spoken aloud.

"In order to do that, we must reactivate the cells," cautioned Thor.

"I know," replied Carter grimly.

With a touch of his controls Thor did just that.

P5X-878

1858 hrs

So this was it. The room looked very much like every other room that the teams had visited. It had been empty when Jac and her team had first strolled through, but now, with the power on, there was now a console beside a small dais. With a roll of her shoulders, the pack came off her back and she retrieved the datapad. Shoving the bag to a slightly spacey Granger, Jac hooked it up to the console and began typing. Moments later the dais lit up.

"So this is a prison?" James finally asked as he watched Jac work, deciding that trying to talk to Granger was a waste of time while he remained as he was.

"Hmmm," agreed Jac as she typed furiously.

"And we were in a holding cell."

Jac nodded absently.

"I wonder what sort of punishments the Ancients dished out," James pondered.

"Here, knock yourself out," suggested Jac as she thrust the datapad into James' hands and began interfacing with the DNA resequencer via the traditional controls.

"Oh, okay," said a confused James and he wandered back over to Granger as he scrolled through the provided information.

The room began to hum with power as Jac navigated her way through the controls. Over by one of the three entrances to the chamber L'masee twitched. "Time to go," he growled.


	16. Falling Toward Apotheosis

THANKS: A big thank you to Karen Joy who worked hard as my Beta on this chapter. Callie Sullivan's transcripts of the series

xxx

**SIXTEEN: Falling Towards Apotheosis**

SGC

February 27th, 2005

1859 hrs

"What makes this place so special?" queried Landry.

Teal'c favoured Landry with a significant glance. "The temple at Dakara is sacred to all Jaf'fa."

Teal'c's old master picked up the explanation. "It is rich in historical significance. Legend tells it is the place where Anubis rose from the dead."

"It is also the site of the first prim'ta ritual," added Teal'c.

Bra'tac nodded grimly. "It is that rite of passage that has bonded us in servitude ever since. For thousands of years, the Jaf'fa have viewed Dakara as the holiest of sites – the very cradle of our existence. It is the place where the Goa'uld first gave Jaf'fa their strength and longevity."

"You both see this as an important strategic acquisition?"

"Seizing control of the temple there would prove beyond a shadow of a doubt the Goa'uld do not possess the power of the gods," argued Bra'tac passionately.

"Even the most stubborn Jaf'fa would have to question his loyalty to the Goa'uld," pushed Teal'c.

"Why now though? Why haven't the Free Jaf'fa attacked this Dakara before now?" Landry was not yet convinced by the plan.

"Dakara is deep within Ba'al's territory and under normal circumstances it is heavily guarded. However, with Ba'al's forces deployed throughout the galaxy battling the Replicators, the temple is more vulnerable now than it has ever been."

"Still, our success depends on the element of surprise and the use of the entire rebel fleet."

Landry stood and shook his head slightly.

Bra'tac almost grabbed the officer by his shoulders to shake some sense into him. "Listen to me, GeneralLandry. This war must be fought on two fronts. We will reignite the uprising and conquer our oppressors while you find the means to stop these Replicators. Let us each fight the enemy we know best."

P5X-878

1907 hrs

"What is it?"

"Jaf'fa."

Jac cursed under her breath and then began signalling the team she was with. SG-5 began moving towards the exit opposite to where L'masee had posted himself. Meanwhile she continued to play with the interface, diving through menu after menu in search of her goal.

_Gender Reassignment_

_The selection of this punishment is based on those offenders whose crimes are based on the use of coercive power and/or violence over the opposite gender._

She didn't bother to read any more of the obviously extensive and cross-referenced _Introduction_ to this particular punishment. She just wanted to know how to convince the computer system to reverse such a punishment.

L'masee abandoned his place by the far exit and began racing towards the woman at the console, her attention totally absorbed by the controls at her hands. He grabbed her by the arm and she shrugged him off. "We must go, O'Neill."

"Just a minute more."

"No. Now or we will be Ba'al's prisoners once more." There was no violence in his words, but Jac had subconsciously registered that L'masee was stressing his position.

"I just need–" she began again as another menu screen popped open, spilling acres of words across the floating screen above the console.

The Jaf'fa didn't even bother to argue further and simply threw the human female into a fireman's carry and hurried to join the others at the other exit. Ba'al's Jaf'fa burst into the room like a hive of angry bees determined to sting something and opened fire upon the retreating forms of the SGC team. As they ran Jac beat her fists ineffectually on L'masee's broad shouldered back, frustrated and upset by the loss of opportunity more than the young Jaf'fa's actions.

Granger had taken the datapad from James and was using the map to find an indirect route back to the main exit of the complex.

/Captain O'Neill?/

Struggling on L'masee's shoulder Jac managed to pull her radio from one of her pockets and attempted to reply as she bounced along.

/H-He-Here!/

/We've placed all the C4 we had on us. We're hoping the spots we've chosen are enough to bring the whole place down and we were lucky while placing the last lot we weren't caught by Ba'al's Jaf'fa. We are currently holed up in a room off the main corridor that the Jaf'fa appear to be ignoring for now. Where are you?/

With an angry heave, Jac twisted herself off the proud Jaf'fa shoulder and landed catlike on the floor, balancing herself with two feet and one hand. In the other hand she held the radio that she spoke into. /We're on our way now. We have Jaf'fa on our tail so we'll be coming in hot./

She didn't pause any further and began running down the corridor after Granger, James and L'masee, the last of whom had paused only momentarily when she'd flung herself away from him. As she ran, she put her radio away and unslung her P90 ready to deal death to anyone who got in her way. It wouldn't be terribly fair to any Jaf'fa they came across but she was upset enough not to care how violent her actions might become. To come so close to the chance to choose her future to have it snatched away from her was too much of a reminder of her usual routine as Jack not to cut to the bone.

The next kilometre of tunnels flew past in a blur of pastel white walls till she and the other three came running straight into the middle of a fire fight, some of the invading Jaf'fa having discovered the second group of SGC personnel and forced them into the main corridor.

L'masee ran directly into the Jaf'fa, ploughing one done with his powerful legs and hooking a further two with his arms. Jac simply flowed in behind him with her gun and brutally aimed for kneecaps and stomachs where she could cause the most pain whilst still taking her opponents out. Granger and James simply tried to keep out of the line of fires as the two groups merged into one and began edging up the corridor to the surface exit.

SGC

1929 hrs

Jacob and Hank watched in silence as the computer displayed up-to-date data about the battle between Ba'al's forces and the advancing Replicators.

"Five more regions belonging to Ba'al have fallen in the past twenty-four hours," observed Jacob.

"He's not putting up much of a fight, is he?" noted Landry.

"No, he's making a typical Goa'uld mistake. He's defending territory at the expense of resources." Jacob sighed, "We can send him a message through the undercover Tok'Ra in his midst. We could suggest a change in strategy."

"If our calculations were correct then Ba'al is probably at '878 by now. We'll be dialling the gate to check in fifteen minutes. With his attention divided by the Ancient outpost and the Replicators he won't listen to any strategy," argued Landry.

"But the Replicators are patient and slow-moving when not being engaged. If Ba'al stops aggressively fighting them and pulls back, it may give Sam more time to come up with the solution." A light on the screen blinked out. "Look – there goes another one. We need him to stall for time."

"If he retreats, where do you think Ba'al will fall back to?" Landry asked pointedly.

"You're worried about Teal'c and the rebel Jaf'fa."

Landry nodded. "They're counting on Ba'al's fleet being too busy to even care about anything else."

"The Jaf'fa rebellion has already failed. We can't risk the fate of the galaxy on one long-shot chance to revive it. The more ships Ba'al sends out to fight, the faster the Replicators assimilate them into their own armada. Their numbers are growing exponentially. If we don't do something about it, by the time we do come up with a weapon to use against them, it may be too late."

The debate was abruptly ended by the klaxon and Harriman's voice over the loudspeaker. "Unscheduled off world activation."

The pair hurried to the control room overlooking the gate room where Landry grilled Harriman on the cause of the alarm.

"It's some kind of–" Harriman began to explain, only to be stopped by the appearance of Ba'al on the ramp leading to the gate despite the iris still being closed.

General Landry studied the sudden arrival of the Goa'uld for a moment or two before carefully making his way to the gate room where he gently ordered the on-duty men currently covering Ba'al with their weapons to stand down.

"Well, speak of the devil," remarked Landry to open the conversation.

The Goa'uld merely sneered at the reference. "By now you are aware of the Replicator threat to our galaxy and that my fleet has engaged them in battle."

"We are," Landry coolly replied.

"We are holding them at bay for the moment. However, they are a more formidable force than I first anticipated."

"Really?"

"I am aware that the Asgaard have previously fought the Replicators effectively."

"Yes?"

"I wish to know what means you possess to fight this scourge."

Landry huffed. "Let me understand you correctly. You are asking us for our help?"

"The Replicators are a threat to everyone, including the countless humans who populate worlds throughout this galaxy," Ba'al stated simply. "Now, I propose that we work together to defeat our common enemy."

"No."

"No?"

"I don't there are any smaller words I could use to make myself more plainly understood. No."

With a snarl, the apparition of Ba'al vanished and Landry amusedly waved his hand through the space where the Goa'uld had been. Jacob came up to the General and wasn't in quite the same amused mood. "What the hell was that?"

"I'm sorry, Jacob, but I'm just not quite ready to sacrifice the Free Jaf'fa. Not after the argument Teal'c and Bra'tac put me through."

"Even if this decision costs the lives of Captain O'Neill and her team on P5X-878?"

P5X-878

1935 hrs

The battle between the team of nine and the Jaf'fa had intensified as they had retreated up the main corridor in search of the exit. Even if they couldn't reach the gate, Jac was sure she'd be happier playing cat-and-mouse on the vast surface of '878 as opposed to the tight confines of the Ancient complex. Here they were little better than sitting ducks, especially if Ba'al brought in reinforcements.

At last, the team reached the narrow stairwell that had brought them down here from the surface in the first place and the team began to use the exit one by one, as Ba'al's Jaf'fa continued to press in on them. She and her fellow SGC members would be in a sticky situation should they find Ba'al holding the surface entrance, as they would have no choice but to try and fight their way out. Jac was sure that was probably a suicidal action.

To her relief as she came out of the stairwell as the last of her party, she saw that Ba'al wasn't simply standing there waiting for them. That relief was short-lived, Sanderson pointing in the direction of the stargate where an advancing column of more Jaf'fa could be seen headed towards them. Jac wedged the sliding door shut in order to buy them more time from the Jaf'fa that were coming up the stairwell behind them.

If only Ba'al had been an hour or two slower. Had that been the case not only would she have been able to attempt the Ancient device that had changed her gender in the first place, but they would have all been able to leave at their own pace with the ZPM. As it was, the situation was going to require her to press the button and blow the device and the ZPM to pieces simply to prevent Ba'al from getting his grubby little fingers on any of the other Ancient justice machines.

She looked to Foreman, "How far do you think we need to be away from here to survive the blast?"

"If this was standard Earth-tech I'd say five hundred metres would be best. But then I've no idea what happens when you blow up a ZPM, even one that is only at half strength."

"Right," Jac replied tersely and waved everyone to begin moving quickly through the ruins in the opposite direction of the gate. She stopped Foreman, however, as he made to move. "How far can we retreat before the chances of the detonation signal not working increase?"

"I've got a work around for that. Pretty crude, but it will do."

"And?" Captain O'Neill sounded a little strained.

"Timers. Everything down there is set to blow five minutes after the detonation signal is sent."

"Send it."

"Captain." Foreman fished a small black box out of one of his BDU pockets and flicking away a safety catch, he exposed a small red button.

Jac reached over quickly and took the device from her fellow Captain.

"O'Neill?" he queried.

"Just want to do the honours myself," she said with a sad, quirky smile on her lips.

Jac pressed the button and knew with that small amount of pressure she had sealed her fate. She was Captain Jacqueline O'Neill now for the rest of her life. She was a woman for the rest of her life.

_Hear me roar_, she giggled lightly to herself as she and Foreman began sprinting to catch up with the others.

The _Daniel Jackson_

1937 hrs

"The process is complete. Now we must re-establish the subspace link between these cells and the rest of the Replicators."

Carter looked on apprehensively. "What if they receive instructions?"

The diminutive Asgaard blinked and softly replied, "It is a risk we will have to take. I will only maintain the link for microseconds at a time. It will slow the process, but I do not believe we have a choice."

Thor went through with the procedure, which was over before Sam could blink. "What did we get?" she asked, her scientific curiosity overriding her fears.

Waving his hands about his console Thor simply said, "I am processing the data now. I believe we have pinpointed the location of the Replicators within this galaxy."

Sam boggled at the map that had sprung into existence, small points of blue light dotted about to illustrate the positions of the Replicators.

"They're everywhere!" she exclaimed in dismay.

P5X-878

1939 hrs

The Jaf'fa in the complex below had broken out only moments after Jac and Foreman began their retreat and we quickly joined by the reinforcements that had begun running once Ba'al had spotted their escaping forms. No Jaf'fa near the complex entrance stood a chance of catching up with the distant SGC personnel as precisely five minutes after Jac had decided against letting the Ancient prison fall into Ba'al's hands the ground erupted with a terrible roar. The ground shook, throwing all in the area not consumed by the immediate explosion or aftermath to their hands and knees.

Great clouds of dust and smoke floated high into the sky to obscure the sunlight and bring everything under a cloak of twilight. Smaller explosions followed the initial eruption, weaving across the ground like snakes as the detonations followed the myriad corridors of the complex. As more material was thrown upwards, much of the area seemed to sink as the land caved into the suddenly exposed chambers and corridors.

Ba'al had initially been of half a mind to pursue the SGC members he'd witnessed escaping prior to the explosion in order to punish them for destroying what he'd been tasked to locate several months ago. But he and his surviving Jaf'fa were forced to retreat away from the disaster and seek the safety of the gate where they could ring back to his ha'tak. Aftershocks continued to hamper their escape, knocking them about like skittles as they staggered onwards.

Things were worse for Jac and her group, being closer to the original detonation than that of Ba'al. She and Foreman in particular were picked up by the kinetic force of the explosion and throw several metres, Jac actually coming flying down on L'masee's back as the Jaf'fa ran for safety. The teams stopped in order to help the three on the ground right themselves only for the first of the aftershocks, as another explosion took place, to bring them all crashing to earth suddenly.

Just several hundred metres from where the nine of them were picking themselves up the ground was already breaking up and dropping into the cavities created by the revelation of the complex. Taking L'masee's offered hand Jac was quickly upright and helping Granger get James moving once more, as Sanderson saw to Layton. Hallan and Marks pulled Foreman to his feet.

"Keep moving," Jac shouted above the thunderous roar of falling earth and smaller explosions. "We've no idea how far this chain reaction will reach till it is all over. We have to keep moving or we risk being swallowed whole!"

The rest didn't even bother to nod in acknowledgement, preferring just to demonstrate their understanding by breaking into a desperate run once more. Jac could see Granger and James, in particular, ditching items from their person as they ran to reduce the weight they were carrying.

Now the ash and soil in the air was blotting out the sunlight and the quasi-dusk made their going tougher as potential obstacles to their run wouldn't be as readily apparent. The team ran the risk of tripping or running into things and right now one false step could mean the difference between surviving this mess or not.

Dakara

1951 hrs

"We are approaching Dakara. Defences?" was the brisk query from Bra'tac has he stood on the command deck of the ha'tak he was currently in control of.

"I am reading only a single ha'tak class vessel in orbit around the planet," Teal'c responded quickly.

"Ba'al must indeed be desperate or dealing with divided intentions. There are normally a dozen ships patrolling this system."

Aron, a Jaf'fa who stood at another console, added, "Then we may yet succeed."

He hadn't been totally persuaded by Teal'c or Bra'tac that this mission to capture Dakara was going to work, but for now things seemed to be in their favour. He could only hope that it would remain so.

As Aron pondered this, the ha'tak dropped out of hyperspace alongside the two other Free Jaf'fa ha'taks that had been conscripted for the mission to take the planet.

"We are in position," Bra'tac noted.

"Gliders are ready for launch," Aron reminded the pair in charge.

"We are being hailed," explained Teal'c as his console began informing him of endless amounts of new data.

Over the communications system the three could clearly hear the voice of a Jaf'fa ordering them to identify themselves.

"Shal'kek nem'ron," Teal'c stated boldly. When there was no reply, he pressed on, "You are greatly outnumbered. Surrender now or be destroyed."

Aron hoped that things weren't going to devolve into firefight so quickly.

Tartarus

2013 hrs

Once Ba'al had surveyed the destruction of the Ancient prison from orbit above the planet, he'd given the order to return to his seat of power, the ha'tak fleeing the area with haste, lest a Replicator controlled vessel come to investigate the situation.

The journey from '878 had been spent in contemplative silence in his quarters. With the objective of his mission completely removed from his grasp, he had been faced with no choice but to return to the centre of his empire, the planet Tartarus. Yet even here, he was not completely in control. A venomous creature had forced itself into his company, and was the one who had pulled the strings that lead him to '878 in the first place.

Ba'al summoned up what inner steel he could and strode boldly into the chamber of the creature that demanded his subservience. With the news he had to impart, Ba'al was forced to consider whether he would survive the wrath of his much-resented _master_. The Goa'uld focussed his attention on the black-robed figure on a throne and had to force himself not to scoff at the pretensions of such a miserable excuse for a creature.

**I have received word from the battle**, the bearded Goa'uld began. **The bulk of the fleet continues to engage the Replicators as you have ordered. However, I believe it would be wise to pull our forces back. If we stop confronting the enemy on so wide a front, it may slow their advance and allow us a chance to mount a proper defence.**

Ba'al kept his eyes focussed on the lesion-covered current body of Anubis as his overlord leant forward slightly. **You doubt my power**, the half-ascended Goa'uld stated simply.

**Of course not. But your fleet is falling into their hands rapidly. Not even the Kull warriors...**

**Do not concern yourself. When the time is right, I promise you, this nuisance will be dealt with. Trust in me.**

Ba'al would have preferred to simply do away with the other Goa'uld, but was unsure how far the mongrel's powers extended and wasn't willing to test Anubis by attacking him to find out.

**As always**, grimaced Ba'al.

**What news of the Ancient prison facility I instructed you to locate?**

**It was found.**

**And?**

**The Tau'ri had already arrived. They detonated explosives within the complex. I was forced to remove myself from the situation when the chain reaction of explosions destroyed the area**, bit out Ba'al. He was doubly annoyed at the destruction of the prison. For not only did this cause Anubis to visibly react with a clenched fist and deep growl which was perhaps the prelude to the infliction of pain upon Ba'al's person. Ba'al had been hoping to find something within the complex to give himself either some sort of immunity from the half-ascended Goa'uld's powers or some kind of leverage to remove him. With the prison destroyed, he was forced into subservience once more.

**An unfortunate setback**, Anubis finally managed to say. **But in the grand scheme of things it does not alter the final outcome.**

SGC

2017 hrs

"It took several hundred microsecond-long connections and hours to go through each subsequent burst of data but eventually we managed to isolate the cipher that makes the Replicators immune to the disrupter and we've adjusted it accordingly," reported Sam from the deck of the _Daniel Jackson_.

Jacob and Landry looked on at the monitor display with small smiles.

"Well done, Colonel," commended Hank.

"It was an incredibly risky thing to do, sir, and as it stands, we still don't know if we were detected, and of course the altered disrupter still needs to be tested under battle conditions."

"Do you have a plan?" queried Jacob of his daughter.

"Thor was able to ascertain the various positions of the fleet now controlled by the Replicators. We're going to engage a few isolated ships."

"Be careful, Sam."

"Good luck, Colonel," added Landry.

With a quick thank you, Carter cut the connection and the monitor returned to its normal status display.

P5X-878

2045

It had been almost an hour since they had initiated the destruction of the Ancient prison complex beneath the surface of '878. Still the ground shook angrily from time to time, deep tremors rumbling through the earth as secondary, and then tertiary explosions took place.

The nine of them had managed to clear the immediate area of destruction after the opening detonation, and then had run through the growing twilight as the area was beset by quakes caused by the collapsing structure and the air was choked by ash and dust. None of them had come out of that period unscathed, Sanderson coming off lightly, with no more that a few shallow cuts to exposed skin from flying debris. Layton however was the worst hit, dealing with a chunk of metal pipe that was now imbedded in his thigh. That had slowed the group's progress as they sought to find shelter from the still worsening situation.

Eventually James had spotted a series of natural rock outcrops behind which they could shelter from the swirling dust storm that had gathered strength in the aftermath of the explosion. L'masee and Foreman set about using what supplies the group had on hand to augment the natural shelter of the rock to help block out the dust and wind, between them fashioning a reasonably sized hut of canvas and wood.

Inside, safe for now from the choking ash, the group settled uneasily into a tense wait, Sanderson doing the best he can with what medical materials on hand to ease Layton's pain and deal to the injury.

Foreman stepped away from the crude canvas-covered doorway and looked to O'Neill. "I imagine this is close to what it is like to be caught up in the effects of a nuclear explosion," he said grimly as he wiped a layer of dust and sweat from his forehead.

"At least we know we're not going to die of radiation poisoning," Granger said.

"Thank God for small mercies," groaned Layton from where he lay, his forearm draped over his eyes as he tried to ignore the dull throb in his thigh.

"Do you think the gate area has been affected?" Jac asked of Foreman.

Her fellow Captain nodded. "I judge we're about as far west of the ruins as the gate is south. If the situation there is anything like it is here then the gate should be okay."

"But it might not be?" asked Sanderson.

"The Ancient complex was extensive, and if any part of it passed southwards enough to bring it close to the gate then the destruction of that area could conceivably have brought the gate down with it."

Sanderson blanched at Foreman's solemn pronouncement. "Won't that map you downloaded tell us?"

Jac nodded and took the datapad that Granger still kept and thumbed through to the map. She groaned as the display revealed itself and passed the datapad on to Foreman.

"That doesn't sound too promising," noted Sanderson.

"No it doesn't, Sandy," said Jac, offering the Lieutenant a rueful grin. "The complex had a tunnel stretching out to quite close to the gate. Obviously an entrance of some sort we didn't notice on our arrival. If the destruction of the complex has affected every part, then there is a good chance that the gate and our MALP that was with it have been swallowed up."

"We're out of communication with the SGC then," acknowledged James speaking up.

"Indeed," intoned L'masee from where he reclined against the rock that formed one wall of their impromptu shelter.

"Taking lesson from Teal'c, I see," mused Jac good-naturedly.

To this, L'masee merely dipped his head, which caused Jac to laugh out loud at such a Teal'c-like gesture.

"How can you laugh at a time like this?" asked James with some heat.

"What else can I do?" retorted Jac as she turned her head to look at James. "We have no way off this planet till the SGC decides to come rescue us and I would rather _not_ spend that time in this enclosed space indulging in bitter arguments and recriminations."

The steel in Jac's expression and eyes was enough to quell James from making any further inflammatory remarks on their current situation.

"How long do you think it will be before the SGC comes for us?" asked Sanderson.

"We're past our scheduled check in time," responded Foreman. "Given that, and the knowledge that we were headed somewhere where encountering Ba'al was likely, I'm sure that the SGC has already tried to dial the gate and contact us."

"And when it can't lock onto the gate–" began Sanderson.

"General Landry would already have something lined up to find out what has happened to us," finished Jac with more confidence than she felt at that moment.

In an ordinary situation, what she had said might have been the case, but with the knowledge that the Replicators were pushing forward their advance, Jac was sure that the SGC and their allies might be hard pressed to investigate '878 right now.

Tartarus

2051 hrs

Ba'al watched with no little disgust, well concealed though it was, while Anubis went about possessing the body of a slave currently held between the arms of two Kull warriors.

With the _acquisition_ completed the previous host collapsed in a heap, dead at the feet of Anubis and the warriors. A flick of the head was all that was needed for the two Kull warriors to take command of the dead body and drag it out of the chamber, leaving Ba'al alone with Anubis who was currently admiring the features of his reflection in the main window of the room.

**Speak**, Anubis finally said as he tore his attention away from his reflection to study the Goa'uld who grovelled before him.

**A force of rebel Jaf'fa have managed to take control of the temple at Dakara**, Ba'al informed him.

**As I hoped**, Anubis purred as much as his vanity would allow him. **They have no doubt gathered their full force and presented us with the perfect opportunity to annihilate them once and for all. Have the fleet disengage their battle with the Replicators and move on Dakara. Take it back at all costs. Leave no survivors.**

The half-ascended Goa'uld looked quite pleased at the idea of such immense bloodshed, something that Ba'al wasn't as willing to share. **As you wish**, Ba'al managed and made his escape from the company of his sadistic overlord.

SGC

2058 hrs

"–sacrifice yourself," shouted Carter as she suddenly materialised within the confines of Landry's office deep in the SGC complex. It took her a moment to realise what had happened before cursing the Asgaard who had deposited her there.

"Colonel?" Hank patiently questioned from where he sat behind his desk. He still wasn't quite up to speed with how bizarre some days at the SGC could be.

"The weapon worked at first, Sir, but the Replicators immediately adapted themselves. They're immune again."

Landry nodded sagely to this brief report and waved the pen he held in the air. "As such, there is no chance you could salvage this work and try again?"

"Sir, Thor's ship was boarded. He beamed me down here before all the systems were compromised. He's trying to get his ship as far away from Earth as possible."

"Do we have any alternative ideas lined up for how to stop the Replicators?"

"None as yet, Sir."

"That's what I was afraid of," complained Landry.

"Have you heard from Captain O'Neill and the mission to '878 yet?" asked Sam, changing the topic of conversation to something hopefully a little more promising.

Landry stood up and came out from behind his desk, speaking as he did so, "Her team missed their scheduled check in time, so we assumed that meant that Ba'al had arrived and was in control of the gate."

"And?"

"So we dialled '878 in order to use the MALP to gain some intel on the area immediate to the gate and in the hope of some radio communication with O'Neill's team." Landry paused and gestured towards the door of his office, indicating for Carter to walk with him as the pair stepped out into the briefing room. "We dialled the gate and were unable to get a lock. Whatever has happened on '878 was a big enough deal to disrupt the gate at that end."

The two clambered down the spiral set of stairs to reach the control room where Walter Harriman, who was attempting to maintain his unruffled image, joined them.

"He wants to talk again, Sir," Harriman managed and pointed to the large glass window, through which the hologram of Ba'al could be seen standing on the ramp to the stargate.

Landry turned to Sam. "I hoping he'll spill and give us some idea of what has happened to our people."

Carter followed the General from the control room and down into the gateroom, walking past a nervous looking Siler.

"I'm here, Ba'al. What do you want this time?" began Landry with no preamble and a casual twang to his voice.

"My fleet is on its way to recapture Dakara and destroy the Jaf'fa who have dishonoured their true god."

"That's hardly a surprise to us here at the SGC. In fact, we were taking bets on how long it would take you to realise that your strategy for combating the Replicators wasn't working. Decided to pick on someone you think you have a chance of defeating?"

Ba'al tried to suppress a growl of irritation at letting the pathetic Tau'ri get under his skin, but having to serve under the yoke of Anubis had sapped all his control. "The Replicators are a formidable enemy," he bit out angrily, "but I have recently learned of a weapon hidden on Dakara capable of destroying them."

"Really?" asked Hank. "And you're telling me this why?"

"Because you must destroy it before my fleet arrives to claim it."

"Care to explain why _we_ are the ones to do this?"

The Goa'uld briefly imagined the human being torn apart in an attempt to regain his composure. "The weapon on Dakara was built by the Ancients," Ba'al finally said as if talking with a small child. "It is not only capable of destroying Replicators but all life in the galaxy."

"And yourself included," added Landry as Sam watched on at the back and forth debate.

"Yes," acknowledged Ba'al.

"So why would you use it?"

"I would not, but there is one who would – one who can survive such pervasive devastation. Your team on '878 has already frustrated one of his plans and now he turns to another source of potential destruction."

Hank felt the weight of the ages upon him as the realisation of the task ahead of the SGC dawned. "You are talking of Anubis."

Ba'al merely nodded slightly to this. "I believe that even the prospect of an Ancient means of inflicting _justice_ was merely a distraction for Anubis in his search for this Ancient device."

"He guessed it might be hidden on the same planet as the Ancient prison complex," Sam said, unable to prevent herself from leaping into the conversation. She was both curious about the device Anubis sought as well as the fate of Captain O'Neill and the others.

"True. I fear that there is little left of that place thanks to the efforts of your people. The mess created by the destruction of the complex was significant enough that it was observable from orbit," explained Ba'al with some relish, before adding with a sneer, "Whatever poor fools you sent there are most certainly dead."

"Why don't you destroy this device yourself?"

"To do so would be to show myself too soon, Tau'ri. I am content to bide my time till the right moment."

"Is that _all_?" asked Landry.

"For now," the Goa'uld replied and the holographic image blurred and faded.

General Landry turned to look at Carter. "Well, we hoped for news of O'Neill's team. I can't say that was the news I was hoping for."

"You going to give them up for dead?" Sam asked as they retraced their steps back in the direction of the briefing room, Landry asking Siler to have Jacob meet them there.

"No, Colonel, especially since that seems to be what Ba'al would like us to do. Unfortunately, we have no means currently available to us to retrieve them if they have indeed survived. The Asgaard might have been willing to help, but with Replicators on everyone's doorstep they would be far too busy."

"What about the _Prometheus_?"

"A possibility, but I've yet to hear if the ship if spaceworthy after its last outing."

Upon reaching the briefing room, they were ambushed by Sam's father. "So, what did Ba'al have to tell you?"

Between them, Sam and Hank explained the guts of the conversation held in the gateroom to Jacob.

"Ba'al said he was serving Anubis?" Jacob finally asked once the tale was told.

"Not exactly. You know those Goa'uld and their egos," lightly mocked General Landry.

"He would never admit to being subservient," agreed the elder Carter.

"No. He said he was biding his time – learning what he could from Anubis."

"Probably looking for a way to kill him," mused Jacob to which Sam and Hank nodded.

"Well, we have no idea how this Ancient device works or what the effects will be," said Sam dragging the conversation back to the immediate issue, "but since Anubis has no real corporeal form, it's likely he would survive it."

"He'd have no-one left to rule."

"For now," agreed Sam to her father's statement. "I mean, time may not even be an issue for someone like him. He could essentially start over; repopulate the galaxy to his own specifications."

"This is a rather ambitious plan." Hank wasn't completely convinced that Ba'al was on the level.

"Well, he has at least some knowledge of the Ancients," Sam said, speaking of Anubis, "I wouldn't put it past him."

"If what Ba'al tells us is true then we cannot afford to have this device fall into Anubis' hands," growled Landry.

"Or the Replicators' hands, for that matter," added Jacob.

Sam then asked how much time was left before Ba'al's fleet would arrive at Dakara.

"Why?" questioned Landry.

"Ba'al didn't say exactly where the device was, did he?"

"No," nodded the General. "He said it was hidden."

Colonel Carter then explained, "Well, chances are it's in the ruins, but we can't be sure. I mean, short of blowing up the entire planet, we can't be a hundred percent positive we've destroyed it – and if it's protected by a shield, even our biggest naqahdah-enhanced nuke might not do it."

Looking grim Jacob turned to Hank and simply said, "Fact is, to be sure we've destroyed the weapon, we have to find it first."

"Go," was all that Landry had to say to that.

P5X-878

2137 hrs

The wind howled without pause and the group had long ago settled into a silent vigil, hunkered down in their shelter with little recourse but to wait out the situation till the SGC provided some form of rescue. Most of the group was in various states of sleep as they mentally recovered from their ordeal. Jac, however, was busy wrapping herself up having carefully packed a bag of gear.

She shook Foreman gently awake. "I have an idea."

"An idea?" he whispered harshly. "What idea is that? One that has you going out into that dust storm by yourself?"

A particularly large gust of wind buffeted the little shelter as if to prove Foreman's point.

"We need to get off this rock," she told the SG-9 team member, "and to that end we need a stargate. I plan on finding it and see if making it work is an option."

"Just how the hell do you plan on doing that? Visibility will be almost zero out there with all the dust in the atmosphere and for all we know the gate is probably buried under several metres of rock."

The hissed conversation had drawn the attention of the lightly sleeping L'masee who crept over to the debating pair. "I will go with O'Neill," stated the Jaf'fa.

"While that might means she survives a minute or two longer out there than if she were by herself, it doesn't convince me that letting you two go in the first place is a good idea," argued Mitchell.

"She has endured worse and lived to tell the tale," L'masee calmly reminded the Captain.

"Besides, do we have a better alternative? We could sit here and simply wait till the SGC comes looking for us, but between the Replicators and Ba'al they may not be able to. Even _if_ they did send a ship, how long would it take to get here and would we still be alive when it did arrive." Foreman moved to argue, but Jac pressed on, "Added to that is the fact that while they _might_ arrive and we're still alive, the atmospheric disturbances may preclude any rescue attempt even _if_ they actually managed to locate us on the surface."

Foreman closed his mouth and looked down at the bare rock floor of the shelter. He sighed, shrugged his shoulders and looked back up at the SGC Captain and Jaf'fa watching him. "You woke me up to _tell_ me, not to ask for my opinion."

Jac nodded. "Thought it would be rude to just up and go while you were out of it."

Mitchell snorted. "Can we guarantee any form of communication while you are out there scratching in the dirt?"

Shaking her head, Jac explained, "Probably not. Another reason why I figure the SGC might not be able to track us. The best we can hope for is that L'masee and I find the gate and it takes just a little effort to dial out."

"Fine," grunted Foreman. "Go. I'll keep an eye on things here."

"Thank you," quietly acknowledged Jac before she used the last of her coverings and pair of goggles from her backpack to hide her face.

L'masee followed suit and used a small number of items from his own gear to cover the parts of his body he felt needed protection from the writhing winds and dust.

Now set, the mismatched pair stepped through the small opening to the shelter and into the oncoming rush of swirling dust. On the doorstep to the shelter Jac mentally took her bearings as she peered out into the wall of brown air that blotted everything from sight like a thick mist. Once sure of the direction of the stargate she tapped L'masee on the shoulder and the two of them began a painfully slow walk, struggling against the surging winds that threatened to either throw them to the ground or pick them up and toss them about as if they were dead leaves.

Dakara

2208 hrs

"We found no evidence of a weapon," Teal'c said as he updated Sam and her father Jacob on the progress of exploring the Dakara ruins.

As Carter told the SGC personnel with them to place the equipment down where she pointed, Jacob cast his eye over the ruins and noted that, "This structure was definitely built by the Ancients."

"As evidenced by the script on this wall," agreed the Jaf'fa. "Until I saw this monument with my own eyes, I did not know that Dakara was a home of the Ancients."

"The Ancient repository of knowledge we found on P3X-439 was hidden in a large monument like this," interrupted Sam.

Jacob waggled a finger at the wall of writing prominently featured as part of the structure, "Maybe this writing will help us uncover the location of the weapon."

"I was able to recognise the language. Deciphering it, however, is another matter."

Carter favoured Teal'c with a small smile and noted that she brought Daniel's notebooks with her to aid in the translation.

**This dialect looks very old. It may take some time**, Sel'mak added, joining the conversation.

With a bow Teal'c took his leave of the father, daughter and Tok'Ra symbiote, recognising that he was better to offer his expertise on the field of battle to those onboard the ha'taks awaiting Ba'al's arrival than to simply stand and watch as others pounded the books for answers to the riddle of Dakara.

P5X-878

2246 hrs

After roughly an hour of slow progress, much of which had involved avoiding sunken areas of ground that had been created by the destruction of the Ancient prison complex, Jac dropped into a crouch and pulled her pack off her back. L'masee joined her in the crouch, his larger body sheltering Jac a little from the wild weather about them. From her pack, Jac pulled the datapad she had brought with her and using the maps provided by the prison computer, she calculated their position relative to where the gate was supposed to be.

With a series of short hand gestures Jac educated L'masee on their current situation. The gate should be somewhere with one hundred metres of them to their left, if it was still standing in position. Jac had doubts as to that still holding true, but she did harbour a hope that the gate hadn't been buried beyond the ability to dig it out. Wiping at the screen of the datapad to remove the quickly accumulating dust Jac nodded to herself as she considered her options for the gate.

Satisfied, Jac stowed the device back in her pack and shouldered it once more, moving with L'masee as they inched forward in the direction of the gate. After a long struggle against the violent forces of nature that swirled about them, the pair reached the original position of the gate. Jac wasn't the least surprised to find that it wasn't there, although L'masee did draw her notice to what remained of the DHD. That wasn't a huge setback, Jac sure that having surreptitiously watched Sam jury-rig various DHD substitutes over the years that she could manage something similar with the datapad she carried.

Waving the ruined machine away to let L'masee to dismiss it from his notice, Jac then gestured for the Jaf'fa to follow her as she gingerly felt her way along the edge of another depression in the ground. She nearly lost her footing on a couple of occasions but managed to persevere until at last one of her hands groping blindly in the fog of dust came in contact with the cold metal of the gate structure. Jac would have crowed with joy at the discovery if it weren't likely she'd end up with a mouthful of dirt.

It took another hour and forty-five minutes for the two of them to ascertain the status of the gate. It appeared to be in one piece, which was a huge plus, negating the fear that it had been damaged as the DHD had been. Still, the gate had been partially buried when they had found it and once dug out it took further time to wedge it into a vaguely upright position so that she find the correct conduits to link the datapad into it.

Dakara

February 28th, 2005

0029 hrs

"'Midday, the darkness is high in the sky'? You sure about that?" Carter queried of the man to her right.

**That is what it says**, countered the symbiote within her father.

"It doesn't make much sense."

"Yeah, well neither does, uh, 'the wind blows on the pillow' or 'three days to the chicken', but that's what these phrases apparently translate into." Jacob gave his daughter a half-amused, half-irritated look at her questioning of his translation abilities.

"Are you saying this whole wall of writing is nonsense?" she asked in disgust.

"I don't know what I'm sayin'."

"Is it possible you made a mistake?"

**Would you care to try?** asked Sel'mak as he held out the clipboard to the Colonel. **The text is quite difficult, and if there is an organising principle to Doctor Jackson's notes, I have yet to discover it.**

"Yeah, he certainly has his own system."

Carter's radio crackled into life and Teal'c could be heard, /Colonel Carter./

"Go ahead, Teal'c."

/Have you had any success with the translation?/

"We're making ... some progress," Carter tried, unwilling to concede to the Jaf'fa just yet that between she and her father that they weren't making the progress that they would have liked.

/I am afraid you do not have much more time. Our long-range scanners have detected Ba'al's fleet. He will be here within the hour./

"Understood," Sam signed off and returned her attention to the wall of Ancient writings.

Some time passed before she turned and asked, "What if it's a code?"

**Something that can only be deciphered by someone who understands the language.**

Nodding, Sam cast her gaze to the clipboard that Jacob held. "Can I see that?"

Signalling his agreement her father moved to pass over the clipboard, but as Carter took hold of the other end, she stopped. Holding it upside down, she frowned slightly as she studied the inverted writing.

**You're holding it upside down**, the Tok'Ra informed her.

"I know. I just noticed – upside down," Sam pointed at a set of symbols on the paper, "these symbols look like another word I've seen before."

Jacob took back the upside-down clipboard. **Right side up, it's 'darkness', but turn it around and it translates into 'sun'.**

"'Midday, the sun is high in the sky'. That makes a lot more sense."

"Yeah, but so what? That's not what the wall says," argued Jacob more for form than anything else. At this point, any leap in logic that his daughter could make was a welcome one if it moved their investigation even an inch forward.

Walking over to the wall once more, Sam took another look, searching out the upside down word that she had noticed on the paper copy. Running her hands around the panel that contained the word in question, she found a slight cut in the otherwise smooth wall of stone. Feeling the groove indicated a circle of stone, which Sam pushed against, using one hand to push it down on the left and another to push up on the right. This led to the section to begin to rotate.

Jacob walked closer, watching with some small amazement as Carter continued to push the panel till it had swung half a circle in movement and the upside down word on the wall was now up the right way and spelt out the sentence 'Midday, the sun is high in the sky'.

"Now it does!" exclaimed the Colonel in triumph at her deduction of the problem before her. She turned to her father with immense satisfaction written across her face.

"It can't be that simple," he countered. "Just turn all five circles upside down?"

"No, I agree. It has to be some sort of combination lock. We just need to figure out which circles to turn."

With that declaration the father and daughter team once more with enthusiasm set about the wall to glean its secrets.

P5X-878

0036 hrs

By now, the constant roar of the wind against her body had become more than tiring and it was causing Jac problems with her concentration, making it hard to focus on the screens of gibberish code that was the various subprograms of the gate operating system. L'masee was once again doing his best to shield her from the elements as she worked, crouched like a gargoyle next to her and refusing to show any sign of strain.

Jac desperately wanted to scratch her face and wipe the grit and grime from her eyes, but the covering and goggles she wore prevented her and the need to itch became just one more irritant. Angrily Jac thumbed through several more command routines, trying to use and channel the anger at the need to itch into enough drive to overcome the growing fatigue.

Another exhausting period of time passed, and when Jac checked, she realised with a start that it had been roughly three hours since she and L'masee had left Captain Foreman behind with the rest of the men. Body aching all over from the strain of staying upright in the wind O'Neill rechecked that last few strings of code to make sure that her understand of the gate was correct. Blinking back the need for sleep, she leaned as close to L'masee and whispered in his ear that she thought the gate to be ready. The Jaf'fa nodded his understanding.

"Can you make it back to the shelter on your own?" she shouted to him even thought her mouth was millimetres from L'masee's ear.

L'masee simply nodded in reply.

Through the muffling nature of the cloth face covering she instructed him to return to the shelter and return with the team. She would bunk down next to the gate and wait for them to return. Resting a gentle hand on her shoulder, L'masee gave it a squeeze of acknowledgement and began the long walk back to the shelter.

Dakara

0041 hrs

As Carter moved the fifth and final panel into position, the ground in the area around the Ancient temple structure began to shake.

"Let's hope that's not a bad sign," she threw over her shoulder to her father as she stepped back from the wall.

She and Jacob were joined by a number of Jaf'fa, drawn by the sudden eruption of the complex into shaky life. The wall of Ancient writing groaned into movement, moving slowly up into some hidden recess with centuries of accumulated dust drifting down as it did so. Behind this wall was a second, that quickly split down the middle and the two sections slid away to the left and right to reveal a darkened chamber.

"Nice goin', Sam," remarked Jacob with a huge grin.

Together they cautiously walked inside the uncovered room to discover what looked at first like a stone altar. Stepping closer Sam recognised Ancient text markings across the top of the object and identified it as being similar to an Ancient device she and SG-1 had encountered a few years earlier. If this was the weapon they had been looking for at least it had a familiar interface that would save them some time in determining its function.

"We're in business!" Sam said and exited the chamber to obtain the gear she had brought with her. As she did so she detoured to the gate and dialled the SGC to hand a report of the situation over to Landry. That done she returned to the hidden room with her case of _equipment_ dragged behind her. Setting the case down she opened it and pulled from within a naquadah generator, which she was going to set up and arm for detonation.

Jacob meanwhile had taken an interest in the device and had activated a simple screen and manual input device. He took a look at the information presently scrolling across the screen and caught the attention of his daughter. "You might wanna hold off on that for a minute. If I'm reading this screen right, the weapon uses an energy wave to reduce all matter to its basic molecular elements. It's not strong enough to disintegrate an entire planet, but it will wash away everything on a planet's surface and everything in the surrounding space."

"Sounds bad," commented Carter as she fiddled with the generator and looked for the best place in the room to set the device up.

"I know, but it also sounds like it does it much the same way your disrupter technology works on the Replicators – by separating the individual components," the Tok'Ra operative said as the germ of an idea began to form.

"They are both Ancient designs," noted Sam, "and General O'Neill did use Ancient knowledge to build the disrupter."

"I know."

Carter gave Jacob a long look. "Do you think this weapon can be modified to work only on the Replicators?"

"I don't know," admitted her father, "but I'd hate to blow it up before I was a hundred percent sure it couldn't."

With a nod, Sam toggled her radio. "Teal'c, do you read?"

/Proceed, Colonel Carter./

"Look, um, my dad and Sel'mak think this weapon may hold the key to defeating the Replicators, and we'll need some time to find out. Just let us know when things get bad, and we'll blow it and get out."

/Understood./

Sam signed off and put the naquadah generator to one side for the moment as she fished through her other gear brought along to translate the wall and helped her father set up a laptop on top of the stone altar. From there she connected several leads from the laptop to an interface of the device as Jacob tapped away at the laptop.

"I'm not getting anything."

Jacob stepped aside as his daughter took position in front of the laptop. "This may not be possible, y'know," she said in reference to his idea to use the device to solve the Replicator problem.

"C'mon, Sam," he cajoled her, "it can't be any harder than blowing up a sun."

Carter threw him an irritated look and stabbed at the 'Enter' key. "Y'know, you blow up one sun and suddenly everyone expects you to walk on water!"

The laptop gave a quiet beep and the screen was filled with the scrolling text of the Ancients, a crude English translation floating in another window of the desktop.

"There y'go!"

"Oh," said Sam, almost in surprise before adding with a dry tone, "Next up: parting the Red Sea."

P5X-878

0156 hrs

Jac was almost of the opinion that her muscles had all decided to seize up between the effort of remaining upright in the clawing winds and the desperate the cold that was burning at her extremities now that she wasn't physically exerting herself to move through the desolate landscape.

Luckily for her, L'masee and the rest of the two teams chose that moment to enter her limited range of sight. It had obviously slow going for them with the wind and injuries, but the Jaf'fa had managed to safely guide them back to the position of the gate. Neither Captain bothered with anything in the way of conversation once O'Neill had levered herself into a standing position once more to greet the arrivals. She simply nodded to Foreman and as they assembled to one side of the gate, she flicked through the datapad and initiated the dialling sequence.

For a long moment, nothing happened, and then the inner ring of the gate sprang into life with a horrible rusty groan. Above the rush of the wind, a metallic squeal could be heard as the ring rotated, slowly at first before gaining sped. Eventually it stopped with the first chevron and Jac let go a sigh of relief she hadn't realised she'd been holding when the chevron locked and the ring began to spin again. All of them huddled by the gate watching pensively as the gate went through the motions of each individual chevron.

With the seventh in place, the wormhole sprung into life, the pale wash of blue light like a candle lighting the way home for the team. Pushing against the wind each of the team trod the last few steps to the event horizon and stepped through, all quite content to leave P5X-878 behind.

Jac went last, pausing on the threshold of escape to look back at the ruined landscape of the planet and know that her future was set. Whatever slim hope existed for the return of Jack O'Neill was gone. While she had not really harboured any hope of such a change, to have such an opportunity presented and then snatched away before she could really consider her options was cruel. With a shake of her head, an almost shaking off of the last of 'Jack', Captain Jacqueline O'Neill stepped through the gate and returned home to the SGC.

Dakara

0203 hrs

"I'm pretty sure this output is giving us the frequency spectrum of the wave the weapon uses to disintegrate matter."

"That's nothing like the spectrum analysis of the Replicator disrupter wave," responded Sam as she and her father slaved over the laptop in a race to understand and possibly make use of the Ancient device they had originally come to destroy. "Here, look."

Sam brought up another window, which displayed the same spectrum, but the graph fell differently.

"I know, but all we have to do is alter the settings on the weapon console so that the output wave matches that of the disrupter technology."

That brought Jacob's daughter up short. "All we have to do?"

"Yeah. The device can be set by varying the height of these panels," the Tok'Ra agent demonstrating by pushing down on one of the many panels that made up the top of the stone altar. When he did so, the graph of the device output in the first window changed.

"Oh," blinked Carter in understanding. "Well, I can run a programme to compare the difference between the two waves. It should let us know if we're even going in the right direction."

"That's good."

"Y'know, even if we can make this work, the Replicators were quickly able to adapt themselves to the frequency modulation Thor made to the original disrupter wave."

"What are you saying?"

Sam paused and collected her thoughts as she tried to get her point across to Jacob. "We realised the only way to eliminate the Replicators and not allow them time to develop immunity was to somehow hit them all at the same time."

"Everywhere in the galaxy?" exclaimed the ex-Air Force General as he realised the magnitude of the problem. "How are we supposed to do that?"

"The weapon translates through the stargate. D'you think Anubis was planning to use the weapon to attack one planet at a time?"

Catching on to where Sam was going with this, her father said, "So dial multiple Gates simultaneously."

"Not multiple Gates – all of them."

"Every stargate in the galaxy at one time? Do you know how many Gates there are in the whole galaxy?"

"A lot," admitted Sam.

**I have no idea how to alter a stargate to perform such a function. I don't know of anyone who can**, argued Sel'mak as the symbiote came to the fore.

Giving her father an uncomfortable look, Carter said, "I think I know someone."


	17. Severed Threads

THANKS: A big thank you to Karen Joy who worked hard as my Beta on this chapter. Callie Sullivan's transcripts of the series

xxx

**SEVENTEEN: Severed Threads**

Dakara

February 28th, 2005

0216 hrs

Ba'al's image stood in one part of the uncovered Dakara temple chamber, casting a look all around before settling on the screen that took up much of one wall. **This chamber must be well shielded**, the Goa'uld noted. **I could not find it using my ship's sensors.**

Sam meanwhile couldn't care less about the Goa'uld's curiosity over the room. They were running out of time and she, rather shortly, said, "Look, I assume Teal'c told you the plan."

**What makes you think you can modify this weapon to defeat the Replicators?**

"We're already on our way to doing that," she explained as she showed the Goa'uld the output of the Ancient device on the laptop monitor. "We need to get this weapon's wave output to match our modified Replicator disrupter wave to within a margin of point seven six percent."

Curious, Ba'al asked, **How did you develop this Replicator disrupter technology in the first place?**

With a swallow, Sam explained who had created the original device used some months ago.

**O'Neill, again**, Ba'al noted after hearing the explanation of the Replicator weapon.** I see that she persists in being an irritant to me.**

'She?' mouthed Jacob to his daughter. Sam merely gave him a shake of the head, which the Tok'Ra took as a sign that she would explain later.

**The mere thought of using something of her design makes me sick**, Ba'al continued.

Sam rolled her eyes. "Look – if we can do this and somehow hit the Replicators all at the same time, we think it will work, but we need your help."

**You want me to reprogram the stargate to dial every gate in the galaxy simultaneously.**

"I know you used the gates' automatic update program to disseminate a dialling program virus to the entire gate network."

**With a virus you ****initially**** planted in my stargate**, Ba'al accused.

Wanting to keep the conversation from devolving into a name-calling session, Sam argued, "No-one's trying to deny that we're mortal enemies here. Can you do it or not?"

With a disdainful sneer Ba'al commented, **I cannot believe I'm even considering co-operating with a female of the Tau'ri... and a Tok'Ra.**

The look on the Tok'Ra's face matched that of the Goa'uld's. **This was not my idea, believe me**, excused Sel'mak.

After a pause Ba'al said, **I'll instruct my troops to land.**

"No way," interjected Carter. "You send one Jaf'fa down here and the deal's off."

**I cannot do what you ask by means of a hologram transmission**, the Goa'uld protested.

"Sure you can," Sam said with a small smile. "Just tell me what to do."

SGC

0221 hrs

L'masee had taken up a position by the entrance of the infirmary to watch as Dr. Brightman examined the returned SGC personnel. He didn't like the harsh fluorescent lighting of the infirmary, but put up with as he waited for O'Neill.

In the aftermath of their return to the SGC it had been decided that SG-5 were to be kept on base and under observation for twenty-four hours to determine whether their months long incarceration by the Ancient prison complex had an effect on them. They were just now being shuffled off to where they would be staying after clearing the routine quarantine procedures and all planned to crash and sleep for sometime after escaping '878.

Foreman, Sanderson and L'masee had been cleared but without the need for an observation period. The other two had retired to assigned quarters to sleep the stress of the recent mission away, but L'masee remained as Brightman fussed over O'Neill.

"Is it your plan to get yourself injured or test the limits of your new body every time you go through the gate, Jac, or do you simply do it to annoy me?" Brightman hissed at the younger woman as she administered another test.

Rather than complain, as Jack would have done, the neo-woman simply sat stoically through the examination. "Oh, to annoy you all the way, Ma'am," grinned Jac.

The grin turned into a wince as Rachel tested the stiffness of her legs. "Hmm," noted Brightman.

"Yeah, got a little stiff waiting by the gate."

"You're not in awful shape, but I'm not keen on recommending you for any form of off world activities for the next couple of days. You'll need to spend some time in the gym working all those kinks out of your joints," said Dr. Brightman.

"I'm sure L'masee will be willing to help me out there," agreed Jac with a small smile to the waiting Jaf'fa.

Putting her gear away in her pockets and handing the clipboard to a passing nurse, Rachel Brightman gave Jac a long look as she put her hands in the pockets of her long, white lab coat. "And how are we doing with other matters?"

"Other matters?"

"Ba'al and '878."

"Oh. Ah." Jac paused to collect herself. "I've been free of any seizures since heading to Boston and the shakes were gone before going off world to find Maybourne. No recurrences of either."

"Fantastic news. What else can you tell me?"

"All systems seem a go, Doctor. My period was disrupted by Ba'al's little orgy of death and resurrection, but that seems regular once more. Plus, I've kept in touch with Sara by phone at least once a week. Talking things through with her seems to be helping." Jac flushed a little pink at the topic of discussion, but unless you knew what to look for one could miss it.

"This all sounds excellent, Captain. If I might suggest–"

Here Brightman was interrupted by the sound of alarms blaring throughout the base, followed by Harriman's voice over the loudspeaker announcing an unscheduled gate activation.

Jac leapt off the gurney, almost stumbling as her already overtaxed muscles protested at the abuse, and turned to Brightman. "Sounds like trouble, Doctor. Gotta go."

Before she could protest at Jac's removal of herself from the infirmary the Captain and the Jaf'fa were already gone.

As the pair raced down the corridor towards the gateroom the lighting in the base flickered and died before emergency lighting kicked in, rendering the corridors a dark and murky grey with splashes of blue and red from warning lights.

Then General Landry's voice could be heard over the loudspeaker. "This is General Landry. I'm ordering a lockdown of the entire base as of now. Nonessential personnel are to make their evacuation via alternate routes. Final countermeasures to be taken on my order."

"Something must have gone wrong for the General to want to prep the self-destruct," shouted Jac as she and L'masee skidded around another corner, moving closer to the gate room.

In the next corridor, they came to a halt in time to hear Colonel Reynolds reporting to an irritated looking General Landry.

"Sir. We're cut off from the self-destruct. They were too fast. Even if we could fight through them now, there's a good chance they've already disabled the activation mechanism."

"Colonel, we can not allow the Replicators any means of escaping the base."

"It's only a matter of time before they gain control of the base systems and override the security doors," argued Reynolds.

"I'm sure the IOA would be keen for us to simply destroy the complex, but I'd rather not have to destroy the place only a few months into the job," mused Hank. "Let's make sure everybody's out of here first and then we'll pick an option."

Reynolds signalled his team to help with the evacuation and Jac and L'masee made themselves known to the General by moving into his line of sight.

"Captain, L'masee," he acknowledged them. "Not ones to stay out of the action for long."

"Sir," chirped Jac crisply. She didn't want to give the General any excuse to have them evacuated along with the rest of the staff currently fleeing the complex.

"Doctor Brightman gave you both a clean bill of health, I presume?"

"Yes, Sir," she fudged.

"Yes, well, I'll be checking that with her later – if there is a later. For now grab some gear and help with the evacuation."

Then Landry was gone.

xxx

When they had cleared out their assigned section of the base, catching up the last of the crew to be evacuated, Captain O'Neill and L'masee had made their way back towards where General Landry was coordinating things. When they found him, he too was geared up and had a weapon hanging by a strap off his shoulder.

"Just what are you trying to tell me, Walter?" bellowed Hank into the walkie-talkie he held in one hand.

/General Hammond says the President has authorized deployment of a ten kiloton nuclear bomb, Sir,/ Harriman's voice was clearly heard coming from the radio as Landry waved Jac and L'masee over to himself.

"I didn't order a nuclear bomb. What the hell is going on up there?"

/An emergency state of alert has been issued and a two hundred square mile radius around Cheyenne Mountain is currently being evacuated. A transport helicopter is waiting on the surface for you and the remaining personnel./

"I meant, where did the order for a bomb come from? I was hoping we could come up with a different plan for containing the Replicators now that the base has been cleared."

/The IOA felt due to the nature of the threat and the relative newness of your position that it was better to override you and have the bomb deployed themselves./

"Thank you, Walter," Landry replied sarcastically and thumbed the radio off. "If the IOA think I'm just going to roll over on this one they have another thing coming," he said to the Captain and Jaf'fa. "Now, as someone about as brilliant as Colonel Carter when it comes to science, Captain, do you have a plan for getting rid of our infestation?"

"I wouldn't measure myself against Colonel Carter, Sir," protested Jac. "My scientific background has hardly been tested in situations like this before."

Further protests were interrupted by the arrival of Reynolds.

"We have a problem, Sir. Six SGC personnel are trapped on level eight. They're cut off from the emergency escape hatch."

"Siler?"

With a positive reply from the Colonel, Landry turned back to Jac and ignored the part of his mind that hated the very idea of someone planted among the staff he was supposed to place his trust in the survival of the base in. But if George and President wanted her here he wasn't going to protest for now. Plus there was the fact that she was General O'Neill niece and a decent scientist who currently had Carter's seal of approval expertise-wise. "Find me a solution. You have until I get back from rescuing Siler."

"Great," muttered Jac to herself once she and L'masee had been left to themselves in the corridor. She looked up at the Jaf'fa looming over her, "Any ideas, big guy?"

Dakara

0257 hrs

The number ran down to 8.00. Jacob frowned and tapped away at the laptop as if his frown could scare the number into dropping further. Within their shared mind Sel'mak berated the ex-Air Force General about his childish behaviour.

His daughter came running in from the outside of the temple ruins to report on their progress. "We've rigged the DHD to dial automatically on signal when the weapon's ready. I think it should work."

Ba'al chose at this point to shift the projection of his hologram, from beside the stargate where he had coached Carter in reprogramming the gate, to the interior of the chamber once more.

**Of course it will work. How dare you doubt me?**

The Goa'uld's posturing merely earned him a set of rolled eyes from the weary Jacob. "What's he still doing here?"

"I can't exactly ask him to leave. How's it going on your end?"

"I'm getting closer," the Tok'Ra said putting a positive spin on his progress.

Ba'al pointed to one of the stone panels on the console with a languid gesture. **This one.**

"How do you know?" challenged a tired and wound up Jacob Carter.

Ba'al's smile mocked the efforts of the Tok'Ra agent. **I'm a god. Gods are all-knowing.**

Proving she was every inch her father's daughter, Sam rolled her eyes at this pronouncement. She really didn't want to have to put up with the arrogant Goa'uld's antics, especially if it was going to distract her father and Sel'mak from the task at hand. But as he had just proved his value by helping rig the gate system so that all the gates in the galaxy dialled at the same time, she was willing to weather the behaviour in case he proved helpful with this last task. Jacob settled for glaring at Ba'al, before turning to his daughter "Sel'mak can't work like this. Neither can I."

"Just try it," Sam briskly said.

Jacob threw a angry glance at Ba'al, who merely stood by with a smug grin. With much hesitation on his part, Jacob reached out to press the panel indicated. As if fell under his fingers the readout on the laptop changed to indicate the new parameters. When he was done the monitor now displayed the number: 4.00. Jacob frowned at Ba'al, not willing to concede anything to the Goa'uld. "Lucky guess."

SGC

0314 hrs

With the mandate to save the planet from the Replicators by means other than blowing the base up with a nuclear bomb, Captain O'Neill and L'masee had made their way, so far unmolested, to the laboratory level of the SGC complex. The whole way there Jac was busy running various ideas through her head, trying frantically to find one that saved the day. She'd seen Colonel Carter do it often enough, so surely it wasn't that hard.

Her line of thought was thus dominated until a familiar and unwanted sound reached her ears as it echoed down the darkened and empty corridors of the base.

"Oh, crap!" exclaimed Jac as she skidded to a halt and brought her weapon to bear.

L'masee gave her a strange look, but copied her actions as he heard the alien sound. Moving his focus from the Captain to the direction the sound was coming in he was witness to a huge number of metallic, spider-like creatures swarm round the corner. They covered not only the floor, but the walls and the roof as well.

"There's no chance of making it to the labs if they're coming from that direction, L'masee," explained Jac as she backed up quickly. "Retreat is the best option here."

"Agreed."

Jac let loose a volley of rounds from her P90 to delay the advancing creatures, the Jaf'fa at her side doing the same and between the pair of them they were able to make their escape back down the corridor before they could be overtaken.

Dakara

0321 hrs

**Now, this one.** Once more Ba'al was doing what he did best. Telling others what to do. Jacob meanwhile pushed down the indicated panel on the top of the Ancient device, frowning all the while as he did so. The indicator on the laptop moved from 2.00 to 4.00.

"That one took us in the wrong direction," observed Samantha.

The Tok'Ra favoured Ba'al with a silly little grin. "All-knowing, huh?"

Ba'al shrugged off any embarrassment he might have felt at having his 'godhood' punctured, only to have his attention grabbed by something happening onboard the ha'tak he was on.

"What's the matter?" asked Carter when she noticed the distracted actions of the Goa'uld.

Ba'al favoured her with a piercing look. **My ships are under attack. A massive Replicator-controlled fleet is approaching on the planet.**

SGC

0331 hrs

Jac burst into the storeroom behind the wildly swinging door she'd barged open, L'masee quick on her heels as behind them at the far end of the corridor the sound of approaching Replicators could be heard. Once they were both through the door the Jaf'fa slammed the door shut and swung a lever to seal it closed.

O'Neill meanwhile was frantically scrambling through the shelves of materials and assorted collected alien devices.

"Replicator killer, Replicator killer," the woman muttered to herself as her hands skittered over one object after another as if she could glean the knowledge she needed via the sense of touch.

She then focused on a tall set of shelves against one wall and striding determinedly over to it she began to climb the thing rather than find some sort of ladder or footstool. She even shrugged L'masee off when he moved to help her, asserting that she was perfectly capable of retrieving Replicator destroying weapons from high shelves by herself, adding with a touch of pride that she had had a hand in the development of it.

Pulling the bulky device from the box it sat in on the top shelf she dropped back down to the floor and brandished the weapon with a smug grin. "May I introduce the–"

"Aae arr gee," interrupted L'masee, spelling out the letters.

Jac scowled. "Who told?"

"Teal'c informed myself of the existence of the device during his recitation of the many exploits and misadventures of SG-1."

"Well this baby," here Jac slapped the side of the device, "is the ARG Mark One. The tech-heads over at Area 51 are working on a more streamlined version, but this one will have to do for now." With that said Jac made towards the door they used to seal themselves off from the advancing Replicators.

Reaching for the door handle she turned her head to look back at L'masee and declared it was, "Time to go bug hunting."

The Jaf'fa cleared his throat, a small smile twitching at the corners of his lips. "I believe that Teal'c informed me that through ColonelCarter's interaction with the Human Replicator version of herself, the Replicators have gained immunity to the weapon you are currently carrying."

"He did? She did? They do?" Jac kicked the door solidly and suppressed a wince at the pain in her toes despite the thick boots she wore.

"Indeed."

"You know," she mused, cocking her head to one side, "perhaps you had better get your own catch phrase. Having two of you on base doing that is probably going to get fairly irritating."

"Your wish is my command."

Jac giggled despite herself and her ideas about giggling. "Nice try, but you'll have to do better."

With a sigh Jac moved over to a bench in the storeroom and placed the first generator ARG down and gave it a once over with a critical eye. "Pass me that toolbox, will you?" she asked of L'masee as she pointed to the box on the bottom of a different shelf.

xxx

/General, fifteen minutes to safe detonation conditions./

"Thank you, Walter," bit out Landry. "Please remind the IOA that I have people working on the Replicator problem and we won't appreciate being bombed to hell right after fixing the problem."

/I'll try, Sir./

"And have the helicopter that is waiting for us leave right now."

/Yes, Sir./

Reynolds crept up to Landry's shoulder. "Sir?"

"It's a fairly safe bet that the Replicators are headed for the surface using our emergency shafts."

"Leaving the only other way out of here accessible," responded the Colonel showing he understood the situation. Behind him his team, along with the rescued Siler and other SGC personnel listened on.

"Exactly. Since escape is not possible I suggest we get on with our primary mission," grimaced Hank.

"Which is, Sir?"

"Buying Captain O'Neill enough time to think of a way to save the base. Tell the team to keep a wary eye out as we go hunting for Replicators. If we can keep them occupied with us then they'll be less likely to seek her out."

"Understood, Sir." Reynolds signalled his team and they fanned out into formation to stalk the Replicators flittering about the darkened corridors of the base.

Dakara

0345 hrs

**And here.** Ba'al was limply waving his hand in a lazy fashion towards another panel on the top of the Ancient device.

Though he was loath to, Jacob and his symbiote Sel'mak complied with the advice from the Goa'uld and pressed down on the panel.

"One point three two," confirmed Sam when she checked the output on the laptop. "We're almost there."

Ba'al simply nodded to this. The holographic image of the Goa'uld wavered, Ba'al suddenly looking off to something happening onboard his ship. **My ship has lost life support on several levels. Our shield strength is failing. I cannot maintain my transmission.**

"We've almost got it," Carter said, dismissing the Goa'uld and letting him focus on other things. "Thanks for the help"

The Goa'uld fixed Sam and her father with a strange look and with a odd quirk to his lips managed to wish them good luck before the holographic image faded away.

"That was just creepy!" complained Jacob in response to Ba'al wishes of good luck.

"Keep working," ordered Sam in order to keep the Tok'Ra operative focused on the bigger issue.

SGC

0351 hrs

L'masee watched as the smaller woman worked furiously on the ARG that sat on the bench. Pieces had been removed, some had been modified and other pieces had been added, culled from various other boxes in the storeroom.

"What are you attempting to do, O'Neill?"

"Teal'c told you how the Replicators work?" she asked back.

The Jaf'fa nodded.

"What I'm trying to do–" began Jac before interrupting herself by touching power crystal within the weapon and shocking herself slightly. She gave an evil glare at the ARG and tried again. "I'm working on modifying the spectrum the ARG works at in order to overcome the immunity of the Replicators to the weapon."

L'masee nodded again, although Jac wasn't sure if that meant he understood what he'd just heard or was pretending to in order to end the topic of discussion promptly. Jac was also slightly freaked by how much she had sounded like Colonel Carter when explaining what she was doing. It was little wonder General Landry thought she had a chance against the Replicators if she sounded like Carter did when on a roll. Goodness know she'd had to interrupt Carter on numerous occasions when she was Jack and that probably wasn't a direction she wanted to go in. As she reached into the opened ARG to modify another setting she mentally ordered herself to keep any future explanations simple and short.

Magnets, she thought, and giggled to herself, which caused the watching Jaf'fa to favour her with an odd look. She could already see the expression on Colonel Carter's face if she tried to use that as an explanation for her modifications of the ARG.

"How will we know if your modifications have been successful?"

"Not until we point this thing at a Replicator and pull the trigger," replied Jac.

"That is clearly a dangerous proposition."

Jac gave the Jaf'fa a flat look. "No kidding."

Dakara

0401 hrs

With the Free Jaf'fa defences of Dakara penetrated by the Replicator controlled fleet of ha'taks, there was little to stop a larger Replicator-created craft from slipping through the breach and making a landing on the surface, only metres from the entrance to the Ancient ruin site. The massive spider-like ship settled down in the unfamiliar gravity, each metal leg stabbing into the dusty ground before a hatch slid open to disgorge a cargo made up entirely of Replicators.

Deep in the hidden chamber Jacob was still struggling with the Ancient device in order to fine-tune it to the desired frequency. Another press of a panel saw the figure lower once more.

"Variable off by point nine eight," reported Jacob's daughter.

Before the Tok'Ra could respond they both heard the sound of automatic gunfire echo across the ruins.

"What's that?"

The Jaf'fa stationed with them erupted into action, hurried from the outer courtyard and disappeared in the direction of the sporadic fighting. Having watched them run off Sam turned back to her father and urged him to work faster.

"I've almost got it," complained Jacob. "Just a little more time."

"I don't think we have it," expounded Sam as she grabbed for her weapon and ran to the entrance of the chamber.

Through the entrance to the chamber Sam could see out to the edge of the outer courtyard, after which the ground sloped away from the mountain site and hid the town from sight. Rushing through the main opening in the courtyard fence of columns came the Free Jaf'fa that Teal'c had left behind in case Ba'al had decided to deploy ground forces to capture the temple. Following close on their heels came the invading Replicators, upon which Sam and her Jaf'fa team opened fire.

For several relentless minutes the small group fought to pin the robotic creatures to the outer edges of the courtyard, wasting clip after clip of ammunition in order to obtain this goal. But with each missed shot the Replicators gained more territory and inched closer to the entrance and the Ancient device they sought. This is why Carter and her helpers were more than a little surprised when the advancing enemy suddenly froze in the middle of their offensive. She couldn't help raise an eyebrow at such behaviour and wonder what had prompted it.

Teal'c beat her to the use of the communications systems. /Colonel Carter, have you successfully activated the weapon?/

Still staring incredulously at the still Replicators, Sam responded, "Not yet, but the Replicators down here just froze." She ducked her head back to the chamber entrance and called after her father to check that he wasn't the individual responsible.

The Tok'Ra agent's "Almost there!" confirmed that he wasn't the cause of the sudden pausing in the enemy attack.

Then just as suddenly as they had stopped, the Replicators surged back to life. This caught the defenders flatfooted and caused them to give up a large chunk of precious real estate before they could swing back into the groove of repelling the swarm.

"Dad, they're on the move again!" cried Sam.

Jacob, who had been working furiously at the console and laptop and hadn't noticed that the Replicators had stopped in the first place, didn't hear the proclamation given how wrapped up in the effort to have the device work he was. When the required margin was finally achieved, the laptop monitor loudly announcing this fact, and he simply shouted out "Point seven six!"

In between bursts of ammunition, his daughter shouted back to him. "Do it!"

Complying with the order Jacob slapped his clenched fist down on the activation button for the Ancient device, as if transmitting his fear, frustration and anger into the device through that curled fist. The machine swung into life, the complex began to shake and shudder and the long dormant equipment began to work after unused eons.

Above the action the summit of the small mountain peeled open, at the same time the Dakara stargate burst into action as the event horizon of the wormhole stabilized. From within the top of the mountain a device arose and began to glow, flecks of energy leaping and dancing about the summit. Seconds later a bubble of that same energy flared out from the weapon, expanding in all directions in the shape of a perfect sphere.

As the wave swept across Dakara the overwhelming Replicator forces fell to dust, their impressive ship following suit. It expanded out into space, freeing the controlled ha'taks to leave them uninhabited and adrift in orbit above the planet.

Amazed by their sudden snatching of victory from the jaws of defeat Carter's body sagged in relief, she was able to lower her weapon and process what had taken place. Then she turned back to the chamber and ran inside to find her father leaning against the device console and looking more than a little exhausted.

Jacob raised his head when she called after him.

"I'm all right," he answered to relieve her immediate fears.

"What happened?"

"I don't know," Jacob replied. He could take an educated guess based on what they had been trying to achieve with the device, but as he hadn't actually witnessed anything that was the best answer he could offer for now.

With a grin Sam exclaimed, "You did it."

Matching his daughter's grin with one of his own, Jacob opined that, "Well, Sel'mak deserves a little credit." Sam's continued grin forced him to amend his statement. "Well, okay, most of it."

Frankly, Jacob didn't care who got the credit. His little girl was going to live to see another day.

SGC

0407 hrs

With her modifications of the ARG completed Jac and L'masee had gone bug hunting. Under other circumstances Jac would have been happy _not _to see another Replicator for the rest of her life (however long that eventually turned out to be), but given she was itching to try out the ARG she was slowly growing annoyed at the fact that the little metal bugs seemed to be avoiding her.

"Do you think they know what I'm carrying?" Jac had asked of her Jaf'fa friend as they stalked another corridor only five minutes after they had heard Siler announce over the communications system that an incoming wormhole had been activated. After all, if _more_ Replicators had gated onto the base they should have surely come across one by now.

"It is possible, O'Neill," agreed L'masee. "However, there may be a simpler explanation."

"Like what?" scowled Jac as they finished scouting another empty corridor.

"Like an energy wave from the Ancient device on Dakara wiping out every Replicator in the galaxy," answered an upbeat General Landry as he rounded the corner and stood before the pair. Behind him Colonel Reynolds was organising the small team he had into helping ready the base for the returning influx of personnel who would be flooding the complex in the next hour now that the crisis was over.

"Sir?"

"Colonel Carter came through for us in the end, the Ancient device she and her father uncovered worked as promised."

"The strange energy wave that passed through the storeroom we were in several minutes ago, O'Neill," the Jaf'fa stated as if the answer was obvious.

"That is correct, L'masee," agreed Landry. "Which means the pair of you can relax. You, O'Neill, are officially off duty till SG-1 is ready for action once more."

"Sir, thank you, Sir." Jac paused and then coughed. "Sorry I couldn't come up with a means of saving the base quicker, Sir."

Hank looked at the Captain with an intrigued, appraising glance. "I take it that means that you _did_ come up with a plan?"

"Yes, Sir. I modified the ARG General O'Neill originally created. However it remains untested as we couldn't find a Replicator to try it out on." Jac couldn't help but let a little grin sneak onto her face when she lifted up the refitted ARG and showed it off to the General.

"Very good, Captain. Perhaps we should shift this off to Area 51 and let the tech-heads there look at it. Even if the Replicators are gone there is no reason why the device may not prove useful in the future."

"Understood, Sir."

"Well," began Hank as he rubbed his hands together, "I'm off to my office to let the IOA know what I think of them and their planned countermeasures. Drop the ARG by the labs and take the time to relax."

"General," both Jac and L'masee saluted.

"Captain, L'masee."

With that Hank stalked off down the corridor towards his office and a handy phone with a direct line to the President, leaving the two to stare silently at each other for a moment of two.

Then Jac shrugged. "This victory sounds like a good excuse to let our hair down and party."

L'masee blinked. He was sure he was still bald and ran a hand over his hair-free scalp to confirm. Jac giggled at the action and explained that she was using yet _another_ Earth idiom.

"As you say, O'Neill, although perhaps you shouldn't be in charge of the food _and _drinks."

"What makes you say that?" the Captain asked as they began to wander along the corridor in the direction of the labs.

"Teal'c informs me that you consider Guinness to be both a drink _and_ food and for your last get together with himself, when charged with supplying both food and drink brought only the beer."

"Seems I'm going to have to have words with Teal'c. He's turning into a regular gossip queen." Jac paused in the corridor and with her free hand wiggled a finger in L'masee's face, "And I'll have you know that Guinness _is_ a food, a liquid lunch in fact!"

"I am yet to be convinced," commented the Jaf'fa as they began walking once more.

"Only because General Landry has yet to let me smuggle some onto the base for you to try."

March 1st, 2005

0907 hrs

General Landry, burdened by a stack of papers under one arm, accompanied Colonel Carter as they worked their way up the stairs to the briefing room.

"Has Teal'c made further contact since I last asked?"

"Yes, Sir," responded Sam crisply. "Although Ba'al got away, the fact that he turned tail and ran made the rebel victory every bit the turning point Teal'c and Bra'tac were hoping for. Jaf'fa from all over the galaxy are joining with them. They now have a significant size fleet securing Dakara. Hopefully with the weapons we've provided, they'll be able to turn the tide against Anubis' super-soldiers. It looks like the Jaf'fa might finally win their freedom."

They stepped out into the open space of the room and broke apart to take their seats at the glass table.

"Finally some good news!" exclaimed Landry as he took the chair at the head of the table. "I am very thankful for your efforts, Colonel."

"Thank you, Sir."

The clomping of footsteps on the stairs caused them to pause in their conversation as Jacob came into the room, still looking a little wan from his exertions on Dakara. He shuffled over to a seat and sank happily into place as he exchanged greeting with Hank and received a happy kiss on the cheek from his daughter.

Landry pulled one of the folders from the stack of papers he'd placed on the table in front of himself and passed it to Sam on his right.

"We've dealt with the Replicators," summed up Hank, "but that still leaves us with Anubis to deal with. As your daughter was explaining we hope the Free Jaf'fa can turn the tide with regard to the Super Soldiers. What can we count on from the Tok'Ra?"

Jacob sighed as he watched his daughter work her way through the file the General had given her. "Probably very little, Hank."

Landry tapped the tabletop with the butt of his pen. "You're sure?"

"As much as I can be. I've been on the outs with much of the ruling council for a while now." He paused. "Any word on Daniel?"

Sam sucked in some air through her teeth as was trying to frame an answer when Captain O'Neill and L'masee trod their way up the staircase and entered the room.

"General, Colonel, Sir," Jac greeted the three seated individuals in turn and was replied to in kind by the first two.

"Forgive me," said Jacob as he gingerly stood, "but I don't think we've been introduced. Jacob Carter and Sel'mak the Tok'Ra."

Jac took the proffered hand and gave a firm shake. "Captain O'Neill, Sir."

Still holding Jac's hand Jacob swung his head to pin his daughter with a firm look that caused her to squirm in her chair.

Jac pretended to ignore this and introduced L'masee to the Tok'Ra before the three sat, Jac and L'masee sitting beside Jacob and opposite Carter.

"We were just discussing the whereabouts of Doctor Jackson, Captain," explained Landry.

"Well," ventured Jac, "according to the preliminary reports of yourself and the Colonel here, the Replicators simply froze at one point during their attack."

"You think Daniel had something to do with it, don't you?" asked Sam with a little more heat in her voice than was perhaps warranted.

This was the first time she'd seen O'Neill since she and Daniel left to observe the Jaf'fa at Dakara. That reminded her some time had passed since she'd vowed to have it out with the neo-woman about where they stood with each other.

"I don't know," Jac defended.

To her right she could feel L'masee's hackles rise.

"Could one of you perhaps explain," ordered Landry in an attempt to defuse the stirring angry mood and get answers to his original question.

"Sir, if Daniel was still on board the Replicator ship that kidnapped him when the blast from the Ancient weapon swept through the galaxy–"

"There's a good chance that Doctor Jackson may be dead. Yet the Captain here seems to believe otherwise. Captain?"

"Nothing concrete, Sir. Just a gut feeling."

"Fine. Till we get word of a sighting of Doctor Jackson we'll have to simply list him as officially Missing in Action," huffed Landry. "Moving on."

Both Sam and Jac disliked the simple dismissal of Daniel's situation but understood that at this stage there was little they could do short of searching every inch of space for clues and the General was essentially right to focus on more immediate issues.

General Landry turned to look at Carter and gestured to the file in front of the Colonel. "Your thoughts?"

"I agree that Area 51 should take a look at it. You say this was the Captain's doing?"

Jac's ears pricked up and she shifted in her seat.

"Correct, Colonel. While you and Jacob were working on the Ancient device Replicators overran the SGC. I charge Captain O'Neill here with finding a means of ridding the base of them. The modified ARG was what she came up with."

"And it worked?" Sam looked up at Jac in interest tinged with annoyance.

"Alas," mused Hank, "your father and yourself were able to wipe out the Replicators before the weapon could be put to use." Then more cheerfully, "Still, the existence of such a weapon has allowed me to effectively box the ears of the IOA. I should think that they'll give me a little more elbow room in future to make decisions."

The table fell silent and Sam continued to watch Jac, an action that L'masee returned in kind. Jacob meanwhile let his eyes flit between his daughter and the female O'Neill seated to his right, trying to puzzle out just what was going on. Hank took one look at the preoccupied people at his table and sighed. "Since we've nothing else as yet to report, I'm going to dismiss you all. Anyway," here Landry looked at this wristwatch, "I have a meeting with Agent Johnson of the CIA."

Elsewhere

0947 hrs

Behind him was a haze of white. In front of him was a door. It didn't take Daniel much prompting to use the door and enter, finding himself deafened by the ringing of a bell and standing in the entrance to an older-style diner. He spotted a ragged assortment of individuals sitting in various booths and attended to by waitresses that flittered about from table to table. Daniel stood for a moment longer. Part of his brain was still trying to find a logical connection between dying from a combination of Replicator stab wounds and asphyxiation in space and standing neatly dressed in a diner.

Noticing a sign telling him to _Please seat yourself_, Daniel did as instructed and located an empty booth near the counter to sit in.

"So, what can I get for you?" asked the waitress that had walked over to his booth.

Daniel looked up, a hundred questions involving 'where', 'when', 'what', 'who', 'how' and importantly '_why_' dying on his tongue as he recognised the waitress as Oma.

SGC

0949 hrs

Jac and L'masee snuck out of the briefing room before Sam had had a chance to corner the Captain thanks to Carter being informed by an airman that she had a visitor waiting 'upstairs'. It was then that she remembered that she'd called Pete Shanahan the previous evening to arrange a time for a discussion about their future with the support of her father close at hand. On the flip side, despite the disappointment of a missed chance to grill Jac due to the arrival, Pete's appearance at least meant she had, for now, ducked any awkward questions her father was bound to ask about the existence of the female Jac.

Sam waited by the entrance to the main elevator for Pete to arrive with giddy nervousness, brought on by a combination of factors. She had sent her father to his assigned temporary quarters, as she wanted to speak to Pete alone initially, although she was beginning to regret that layer of possible protection as she shuffled her feet and played with the sleeves of her black skivvy.

The elevator doors opened with a quiet ping, revealing an equally nervous looking Shanahan and his guard who was sent with him to keep him from wandering in uncleared areas.

"Hey!" squeaked Pete, annoyed with how timid he sounded.

"Hi!" managed Sam with an equally limp greeting. "Thank you, Airman," she continued, dismissing the audience to their awkward reunion.

Pete wanted to give her a kiss on the cheek, any sign of affection at all, but restrained himself as he felt the undercurrents of Sam's bland welcome. He stomach flipped over and he had the growing sad realisation that this might just be the end of the line.

"So," he began lightly, trying to keep himself on a even keel even though he felt like a storm-tossed dinghy, "full security clearance, an all-access pass to SGC? This must be big."

"Oh, it's big!" agreed Sam with forced cheer as they reached the section of the floor containing the VIP quarters for off world guests. With a knock she led them inside where Jacob sat at a small table.

"Dad, you remember Pete."

Pete couldn't help but stare at the man in the brown tunic-like get up. It wasn't only the clothing that held him up, but blurry flashbacks to the Christmas dinner with Mark and the rest of the Carter family.

"Shanahan," greeted Jacob with an extended hand when he realised that the police officer wasn't going to make the first move. "Good to see you've recovered from Christmas."

Sam gave her father a dirty look while Pete looked sheepish and rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

"I was just... I meant, duh," tried Pete. "Stammer, stammer! It's an honour to see you again, Sir, really. You'll forgive me if I don't recall everything about Christmas. I was rather nervous and had a little too much to drink."

Pete finally stepped forward and shook Jacob's hand while turning his head to his fiancé and asking, "Why didn't you tell me?"

The situation was confusing Shanahan. He had originally assumed that Sam's call to invite him to the base was so because she had decided on him, despite any lingering issue she had with others. Then he'd gotten cold feet on that idea and felt perhaps it was the reverse and she wanted to end things, doing so on base because it was her 'home turf' and she felt safer there. But with her father here? Was she going to really, truly say 'yes' this time and mean it?

"I didn't want you to be nervous," Sam rather lamely explained.

"I think it was Sam that was nervous," butted in Jacob as he released Pete's hand and favoured his daughter with a slightly mocking smile that she returned with a grimace as she realised she wasn't fooling her father at all.

"How did not telling me help?" asked Pete of the woman to his side.

"It didn't," Sam admitted.

There followed an aching, deep silence.

"So..." tried Pete.

Sam gestured for Shanahan to take a seat and he took one of the two sofa-like chairs, Jacob returning to the seat at the table he'd been at when they had arrived. Carter didn't take the other chair and instead paced the length of the room.

Pete frowned in disappointment at this action. "Bad news?"

Sam looked up from her pacing at Pete before flicking her eyes to her father who shrugged. "I've been thinking," began Sam as he pacing came to a halt.

"And talking," Sam then added. "A lot of talking."

"About us, I guess?"

"Yes!" exclaimed Sam and she finally took the other seat opposite Pete, placing her hands in her lap in attempt to not fidget. "I've talked about us with you, my brother Mark, Dad here..."

"That is a lot of talking," observed Pete as his gut twisted.

"And Daniel," continued Carter, which provoked a wince from Pete who had been aware that the archaeologist hadn't been to keen on him. "Teal'c."

"Teal'c, really?" interrupted Jacob. He was actually impressed that his rather reserved and insular daughter had actually talked to this many people about her relationship with Pete.

Sam gave her father a small smile. "Yeah, Teal'c's pretty good at the whole relationship thing. Just a bit blunt in his delivery."

"I can see that," nodded her father as if imagining such a scene.

"So," tried Pete again. "You've done a lot of thinking _and_ talking."

"I'm sorry, Pete," Carter finally burst out, apologising.

Pete fixed the woman opposite him with a sad and resigned look. "I knew from the beginning. Guess I just thought when you said 'yes' that..."

Standing from his chair Pete took a few steps away and turned around to watch Sam who was still seated. Jacob held his tongue and watched in silence.

"You were worth the risk," Pete began. "Don't say I deserve better. Can't get much better than you."

"That's not true," protested Sam.

"It is," insisted Pete. "It's why I was so willing to give you the time and space you said you needed, even when I knew there was a good chance at the end you wouldn't pick me."

Climbing out of her chair Sam pulled the police officer into a hug, tears already at the corners of her eyes. When she stepped back out of the hug she apologised again.

With a shrug Pete said, "I guess all I can say is: I hope you get what you want."

"That's it?"

Shanahan's almost boggle-eyed stare at that response was matched by Sams father's own look of disbelief.

"What do you want? You want me to get down on my knees and beg?" asked a pained Pete.

"God, no! Of course not!" Carter replayed what she'd said in her head and couldn't believe how crass it sounded. Had she really dated and become engaged to him because it bolstered her self esteem? "I just... I thought you would react differently," she added lamely in an attempt to defend herself.

"Good-bye, Sam." Pete opened the door and stepped out into the corridor, closing it behind himself to leave Sam with her father. Jacob had risen from his chair and was now holding his daughter to himself as she cried.

As he stroked her hair, her face buried in his tunic, Jacob and Sel'mak had an internal discussion about the merits of love. In many ways Jacob was sad that Sam still didn't have someone to stand next to her throughout life, but he was also glad that she wasn't going to choose such a person for the wrong reasons. Sel'mak was a little more pragmatic, perhaps a result of being a symbiote and involved in much deeper unions than marriage through his various hosts. Sel'mak was more inclined to believe Sam should have gone through with the marriage and learned to be with the person she'd picked for the right reasons later on.

In the end it was all simply guesswork. What was more important was that his daughter needed him and while he still had the strength he would do everything he could to comfort her.

Elsewhere

0953 hrs

Whatever Daniel might have said was lost to a parallel universe when a larger man who was seated at the kitchen counter cried out, "Hey! What do I have to do to get some more coffee around here?"

"Find your enlightenment," Oma snarled at the man before plastering a vaguely nicer look on her face as he turned back to Daniel.

Realising that she was waiting for him to order Daniel scanned the tabletop for clues. "Menus?" he asked.

"We don't need them here – just order what you'd like."

"Okay," Daniel drawled in disbelief. "I'll have the truth, with a side order of clarity, please."

Oma didn't bat an eyelid at his request. "The Replicator version of Sam was in your head trying to access the knowledge buried in your subconscious, but you gained control of her instead. She killed you to stop you. That's where I stepped in. How's that?"

"Pretty clear," replied Daniel, still not quite sure what was going on.

"Well, we aim to please. The customer comes first, you know!" Despite her attempt to be bright and perky, Oma to Daniel seemed to be seething with anger and contempt. He wasn't sure whom it was directed at, but hoped that it wasn't himself.

"So I'm ascended again."

"Not exactly. Sort of a... stop along the way. You have to make that choice for yourself."

"Waffles," said Daniel, misunderstanding Oma's meaning and instead managing to answer her original query.

Taking things in her stride she asked, "Bacon on the side?"

"No." Daniel took another look at the diner. "I remember this place."

Oma gave him a patronizing look that made him feel four-years-old again. "You should – it came from your mind."

"My grandfather brought me here after my parents' funeral. I had waffles."

"Waffles it is," Oma briskly said as she noted the order down on her pad and walked away.

"Wait," called Daniel. Oma complied and turned to look at him. Daniel played with the tabletop with his finger for a moment. "How do I know it's really you this time? How do I know this isn't some trick Replicator Sam's playing to stop me from controlling her?"

"How deep is the river if you cannot see the bottom?"

Daniel closed his eyes in frustration and elusive ideas and sensations flittered at the back of his Replicator-stirred up mind.

The man at the counter wasn't quite so passive however, bellowing out, "Deeper than the coffee in my cup, I'll tell you that!"

Oma excused herself and went to place the order with the chef.

SGC

1747 hrs

"You have not gone home, O'Neill," observed L'masee as he entered the gym area to find the Captain pounding away at a punching bag.

"You've noticed, have you?" Jac threw a particularly nasty combination of punches towards the bag.

L'masee merely ignored the bitter words and circled the room, watching the one he had pledged himself to. She was obviously out of sorts with something and the Jaf'fa wondered what the cause might have been. Jac's attitude had been noticeable at meeting earlier and gave him pause for thought.

"You are troubled."

"Another stunning observation!" scowled Jac as she backed away from the bag and delivered a powerful roundhouse kick to the top half.

Snatching up a long wooden pole from the selection of practice weapons the Jaf'fa advanced on the smaller woman, twirling it about his body with ease.

"I'm not in the mood."

L'masee ignored the protest and slapped Jac lightly across her hip with the stick. She fixed him with a glare and pushed a second swipe away with her glove-covered hands.

"Try that again and I'll beat you." Jac tried to turn back to the punching bag only to have the stick jabbed into her right shoulder.

With a hiss of anger she skipped lightly over to the array of weapons and ditched her gloves. Taking up a stick of her own she swiftly swung back to the waiting Jaf'fa and waved the weapon towards his legs.

L'masee leapt back out of range and brought his staff up, the end pointing towards the Captain. Jac did the same and the pair circled each other for a moment or two.

"What are you trying to achieve, other than pissing me off?"

"Clarity, O'Neill."

"Cryptic. Blunt. Almost monosyllabic," summed up Jac as her staff twitched in her hands. "Far _too much_ time spent with Teal'c I see."

Her Jaf'fa friend took a swipe at her head, Jac tilting her chin back to dodge the blow while at the same time curling and swinging her own staff towards L'masee's exposed right arm.

"You are angry," L'masee noted as he took the blow on the arm without further comment.

"So?" The Captain's stick was brought horizontal to parry an incoming blow from the Jaf'fa. "I'm allowed to be."

As the two staffs pressed against each other L'masee leant over the top of the crossed weapons. "Not if it affects the performance of your unit."

Jac let herself fall backwards onto the mats and rolled away as L'masee became unbalanced and toppled forward onto his knees. She came up fighting, aiming to bring her staff down on his unprotected neck only to have the Jaf'fa anticipate the move and dive forwards into a roll. "Teal'c put you up to this, didn't he?"

Her opponent shifted into a defensive pose and narrowed his eyes. "Indeed. He wished for you to know that he still waits on your reconciliation with ColonelCarter."

The pair circled each other once more.

"I'm getting there!"

"By deserting the briefing room as soon as possible when ColonelCarter clearly wished to talk to you?"

"She had other things to attend to," protested Jac with a light jab at L'masee's left side.

The Jaf'fa deflected the attack and nodded in acknowledgement of the call for Carter to attend to a visitor. "That is a feeble excuse, O'Neill. It is not becoming of one of your status to resort to such fooling of one's self."

"Status?" queried Jac as she avoided a swing from L'masee.

"As the one to whom I pledged my service."

Lowering her staff Jac fixed L'masee with a half-hearted attempt at a sneer, "You fight dirty."

"I believe I showered this morning, O'Neill."

Stomping over to the benches that lined the wall Jac tossed her staff away, it clattering into a corner, and slumped against the wall as she sat down. "I mean you are..."

L'masee slowly approached the bench with his weapon tucked against his side. He raised an eyebrow and waited for Jac to continue.

"Oh, forget it!" Jac angrily finished and tried to wave the conversation away with her hand.

Dropping into a squat in front of the woman and placing his staff gently on the floor the Jaf'fa held her attention with his eyes.

"It is true that I do not understand everything about the nature of your problems with Colonel Carter," began L'masee, "Nor is it my place to know them. Only understand this; Teal'c is greatly concerned for the stability of SG-1."

"I know, I know," complained Jac as she swept some sweat from her eyes. "I know I should talk to Colonel Carter. But doing so isn't as easy as it sounds."

L'masee's brow furrowed. "What is it that you fear?"

"Truly?"

"Truly, O'Neill. You can continue to avoid this."

Jac snorted.

"It is true. Teal'c has threatened myself with a brutal sparring session should you have not talked with ColonelCarter before his return from the Free Jaf'fa."

Giggling to herself Jac gave L'masee a bug-eyed stare. "He said that?"

"He did, prior to our departure to P5X-878."

With a sigh Jac sat up and rolled her shoulders. "I fear rejection," she finally said blandly.

"Rejection?"

Nodding, Jac carried on. "Despite appearances to the contrary, SG-1 has been a large part of my life for some time. Really, when I look back on it there hasn't been much in my life _other than_ SG-1.

"But in this last year things have changed. Some small, some big. _Huge_ even. My one anchor, the thing that kept me going after all I have seen and done and lost, was SG-1 and the people who make up that team. And in those few months I lost them twice over, once to the distance of promotion and once to the division of a new identity.

"Now that I am back with the team and my past is known to them I have it back within my grasp and I'm scared to lose it a third time. I don't know if I'm strong enough to handle that sort of rejection again."

L'masee could see that O'Neill was fighting back her tears, trying hard not to show what some might deem a sign of weakness. The Jaf'fa pondered his response to what his liege had confessed.

"Consider that change is a constant, O'Neill."

Jac stopped sniffing. "Pardon?"

"Does not everything change in the end?"

"I dunno, Bart Simpson still seems ten-years-old even though he should be twenty-six by now." Jac caved in at the weird look from L'masee. "Okay, okay. Change is happening... all the time. Your point is?"

"Have you not embraced the previous changes in your life? Why do you cling to the past that is SG-1?"

"Because," ground out Jac. "Because as I said, it has been my anchor when all else has been lost."

"Yet, will not this SG-1 at some point come to an end? Infirmity and old age will eventually prevail with you all, your teammates sooner than yourself. Can you really see them serving as part of SG-1 ten years from now? Twenty?"

"No," admitted Jac, ducking her head.

"Then," pressed on L'masee, "is it not wise to abandon these fears of rejection over something that has passed. Instead focus on something new."

The Captain tilted her head back against the wall and stared up at the ceiling of the gym. "In other words, get over SG-1. Talk to Colonel Carter and make a new friendship 'cause SG-1 won't be around forever."

The Jaf'fa nodded with an almost proud smile on his face that Jac missed due to her investigation of the ceiling. When she looked down he had already schooled his face back to the usual impassive stare.

"Teal'c has obviously been teaching you well," Jac finally said with an amused quirk of a smile on her lips.

"Indeed."

Laughing, Jac flashed an affectionate swipe of her hand at L'masee's bald head and then pushed the Jaf'fa over. She quickly stood and moved astride of the fallen man, looking down at his with an amused glint in her eye. "Got you, right where I want you."

With a scissoring of his legs he cut Jac's feet out from under her and they became a laughing pile on the mat. "You spoke too soon, O'Neill."

"A bad habit." After they lay there for a moment of silence, Jac had to ask, "I take it from all this that Teal'c shares this belief that SG-1 is transitory?"

"He does," said L'masee as he wrenched himself up and began to stand. "He is also aware that both DoctorJackson and ColonelCarter have talked of future choices."

"Future choices?" echoed Jac as stood and then used a towel to wipe herself down.

"As I understand, DoctorJackson still holds to a wish to travel to the city of Atlantis."

"Ah, Dannyboy and his old rocks. I shouldn't be surprised. And Carter?"

"A place of numbers," recalled L'masee.

"Numbers?"

"An Area 51, Teal'c said," explained the Jaf'fa as he put the stick they had fought with away.

"I suppose if there was anywhere Colonel Carter wanted to retire to it would be somewhere where she can play with alien doohickeys to her hearts content." Jac flicked her towel over her shoulder and picked up her boxing gloves.

The pair stood in the doorway to the gym and Jac looked back at the bag she had been taking her frustrations out on. She was glad that L'masee had been willing to brave her wrath and work her out of her anger and fear at a possible rejection from Colonel Carter.

"Well, if those two have their plans and Teal'c is busy with the Free Jaf'fa, I guess I'll just have to make some plans of my own!"


	18. New Horizons

THANKS: Callie Sullivan's transcripts of the series

xxx

**EIGHTEEN: New Horizons**

Elsewhere

March 2nd, 2005

0704 hrs

"Hey – I know you!"

Daniel looked up at the man accosting him in the diner he'd discovered himself in. It was the same man he'd witness muttering abuse about Oma's waitressing skills.

"Really?" he responded in surprise.

"Yeah!" the portly gentleman continued as he took the seat opposite Daniel in the booth. "The guy from the paper! Doctor Daniel Jackson."

With that the older man placed a newspaper on the table between them, the headline screaming _JACKSON STILL UNDECIDED_. A less than flattering picture of Daniel appeared beneath the headline. The archaeologist looked up at the other man, and was about to try and word a polite request for the man to leave without the paper, when the gentleman in question told him to keep it and departed.

Unfolding the newspaper he began to read. This took some time, even if the measure of passing events seemed irrelevant to those in the diner, Daniel eventually being interrupted by Oma arriving with the plate of waffles. He waved the paper at her, demanding to know if she was informed about current events involving the half-ascended Anubis. Oma didn't try to deny her knowledge.

"You're not gonna do anything about it?" Daniel asked.

"You know I can't," Oma bit out.

"Well I'm certainly not just gonna sit here and let this happen," spat Daniel as he stood and began walking towards the diner exit, newspaper in hand.

"You can't leave – you're not ascended yet," Oma called out to him as he neared the exit. Daniel turned to hear her continue, "You walk through that door, you're choosing the alternative."

"You're saying I'll be dead."

"Pretty much," agreed Oma, nodding.

"Okay – ascend me."

Oma favoured him with a small sad smile. "It doesn't mean you'll be able to help your friends. You know the rules."

Daniel took some steps towards the ascended being. "Yes, but once I'm ascended I can choose to take human form again, just like last time."

"Technically, yes, but you can't take that paper with you. You won't have any of the knowledge that you've gained here – and good luck ever ascending again. I'm certainly not going to help you a third time." Oma sounded almost bitter.

"So you're saying," began Daniel incredulously, "I can know Anubis is plotting to destroy all life in the galaxy and all I can do about it is stay here and contemplate my own enlightenment?"

"You can eat your waffles," she threw back at him as she walked back to the kitchen.

Hurt at the lack of support from Oma, Daniel then tried engaging other patrons of the diner in conversation. Despite his best "charming" smile and introductory patter, all his efforts resulted in him being ignored completely. He returned to his booth not a little angry as being so casually blocked.

"They're not going to talk to you," explained Oma as she returned to Daniel's booth with a jug of syrup.

"Why not? Who are they?"

"Others. You're not one of them yet."

"You mean Ancients," mused Daniel.

"A couple of them," corrected Oma.

"What are they doing here?"

"Watching."

"Me," concluded the SGC member.

"Me too. I told you before – they're always watching," she noted offhandedly as she held out to him the syrup jug. "You wanted some motor oil?"

Taking the proffered jug, Daniel watched her walk away and poured syrup on his waffles with resigned abandon.

SGC

0731 hrs

The briefing room was busy, Landry heading up the table with Colonel Carter and her father on one side of the table and the other occupied by Teal'c, his mentor Bra'tac, L'masee and finally Captain O'Neill. They had been at it for almost half an hour, hammering at the edges of what to do with the Dakara superweapon now that the Replicators were no more.

"So, effectively what you are telling me is that the Jaf'fa refuse to allow the destruction of the weapon on Dakara," summed up Landry. "The IOA aren't too keen on such a device remaining in the hands of a newly formed and potentially unstable Jaf'fa alliance, and I agree with them, strange as that sounds. At this stage it wouldn't take much for Ba'al to return and attempt to claim it for himself."

"The Jaf'fa will defend Dakara with their lives," countered Bra'tac. "The ruins at Dakara have become a symbol of freedom."

"That's great," agreed Landry. "but it doesn't remove the problem of the weapon."

"The Jaf'fa would never use it against the Tau'ri," argued the older Jaf'fa.

Jacob cut in at this point. "Hank is right. It's not a case of trusting the Jaf'fa to not use the weapon against the Tau'ri. It is the principal that no-one should have that kind of power at their disposal."

"The universe would certainly breathe easier if it was gone," remarked Jac.

"Indeed," echoed Teal'c.

"Thank you," grinned Jac.

"If you are suggesting we destroy this device against the wishes of the High Council, I must point out that would not be a good first step in relations between the Tau'ri and the newly formed free Jaffa nation."

Landry pondered that point for a moment.

"I'd volunteer the services of the Tok'Ra to destroy the device," said Jacob, " and to be honest, a plan may already be in the works, but as you know, Sel'mak and I aren't fully in the loop any longer. I'm sorry I can't be of more use."

"Perhaps that is for the best," agreed Hank as he favoured Jacob with a careful eye. The ex-Air Force officer avoided meeting Landry's eyes, her father's evasive behaviour distracting Sam for boring a hole in Jac's head with her own glare.

"Effectively we have a weapon that we're all broadly agreed is better off in pieces than in the hands of any one group," mused Hank. "We just need a means of convincing the Jaf'fa to let it go."

Bra'tac sighed, "Teal'c and I have arranged another meeting of the Jaf'fa Council."

"Our hope is to continue strengthening the bond between previously warring Jaf'fa by focusing on our common enemy," explained Teal'c. "There are still many Goa'uld who remain a threat. Perhaps in time we may be able to encourage the council to agree to the destruction of the weapon."

Elsewhere

March 3rd, 2005

1947 hrs

"More coffee?" asked Oma as she waved the coffee pot in front of Daniel.

"Sure," answered Daniel before asking her to join him in the booth.

"Oh – how am I supposed to put it?" queried Oma as she sat down opposite the man in limbo. "Man, are my dogs tired!"

"That's good!" grinned Daniel.

The ascended being leaned forward in her seat slightly to ask, "How are your waffles?"

"Best I ever had," responded Daniel. He then launched spectacularly into another topic of conversation altogether, "Can you tell me why you stopped me from killing Anubis the last time I was ascended?"

"Because if I didn't stop you, the others would have, and they wouldn't have been as nice about it."

The archaeologist gave her a blank look. "You mean they wouldn't have erased my memory and left me naked on a planet?"

"That was your choice," retorted Oma heatedly, to which Daniel simply raised an eyebrow in astonishment. "Okay, maybe not the naked part. But I didn't totally erase your memory, even though I was supposed to."

"There – okay, why is it okay to break some rules and not others?" Daniel stopped to watch the man who had given him the newspaper wander back into the diner with a new paper in his hands. "Look," began Daniel once more, "if you knew I had a problem following the rules the last time, why offer me ascension again?"

"Because I didn't wanna see you die without at least giving you a second chance. Look, I have trouble following the rules. I'm not really supposed to help people ascend. You're supposed to do it on your own."

"But you do it," protested Daniel.

"I walk the line. Believe me – I crossed it a few times and paid for it dearly. My point is you just need to be willing to put your prior human existence into the proper context. Sorry – I gotta get back to work."

Taking the coffee pot with her, Oma returned to the counter where she ignored a request for coffee from the man with the newspaper.

SGC

March 4th, 2005

1136 hrs

"So, T, watcha been up to?" asked Jac as she and the Jaf'fa strolled a corridor within the labyrinthine underground base.

"Master Bra'tac and I have been working to persuade the Jaf'fa Council to agree to the destruction of the superweapon on Dakara. So far we make little progress."

"I guess change like freedom from the Goa'uld has got your people a little jumpy," observed Jac as she ate a large spoonful of ice cream drawn from the tub in her left hand.

"Indeed," intoned Teal'c as he watched the woman consume the frozen confectionary. "Is eating such amounts of ice cream good for you, O'Neill?"

Jac waggled the empty spoon in front of Teal'c eyes. "Possibly. Probably. For cryin' out loud, Teal'c, just ask what you want to ask rather than beating around the bush!"

"Have you spoken to ColonelCarter yet?"

"There," exclaimed Jac with a dramatic flourish of her hands, "don't you feel better now that you've asked the question?"

"You are avoiding my question," noted Teal'c as the pair rounded a corner in the corridor to stand outside the gym area. Through the open doorway they could see L'masee going through a brutal routine, using a wooden stick as a makeshift staff weapon to beat the stuffing out of a dummy.

"Of course I am!" shouted Jac. "You really think it is a conversation I _want_ to have? No, don't answer that!"

Teal'c stood silently and waited, watching the younger Jaf'fa perform as he did so. Jac huffed and ate another spoonful of ice cream.

"Fine, I'm avoiding her," Jac finally said, adding after a raised eyebrow from Teal'c, "Still."

"Do you not feel better now that you've admitted this?" Jac could hear the patronising smugness of her earlier query passed back to her.

"Ooh!" ground out a frustrated Jac. "That's what the ice cream is for!"

"To hide behind?"

"Yes. No!" Jac took another mouthful of ice cream to try and calm her temper. "Confidence."

"Confidence?" asked the intrigued Jaf'fa, noting that L'masee had ended his practise and was now approaching as he towelled the sweat from his body.

"O'Neill is operating under the delusion that consumption of the cold dairy product will give her the boldness required to speak to ColonelCarter."

Jac gave L'masee a rather pointed glare, accompanied by a pointed spoon. "I _really_ don't need you pointing out my flaws – many that they are." She turned to her head so she could stare at Teal'c, the spoon following. "And I _really_ don't need you helping him by poking my sore points."

"There is a simply remedy for this situation, O'Neill," said Teal'c.

"Talk to Carter," agreed Jac.

"Indeed," intoned Teal'c and L'masee together to the disgust of Jac.

She retaliated by flicking a glob of ice cream into each of their faces before making quick her escape.

"I am glad to be passing the task of watching her wellbeing to you, L'masee," commented Teal'c with some small relief as he wiped the mess from his face.

Next to him L'masee had an oddly amused, yet slightly worried look on his face as if he was only just beginning to realise what he was taking on. The ice cream dribbled down his chin.

Elsewhere

1305 hrs

Daniel observed the heated confrontation between Oma and the man with the newspaper with some interest. At least it was better than wasting whatever it was that was pretending to be sugar in this place. With Oma departing in anger, Daniel took his mug of overly sweet coffee and approached the counter.

"Hey," he tried, unsure what his reception would be.

"Hey! Daniel!" exclaimed the rotund man. "How's it going?"

"Do we know each other? I feel like I know you."

"Call me Jim," said the man. "We ran into each other last time you were ascended."

"Ah," responded Daniel with no more clarity of memory than he had before he had asked the question. "Nice to meet you... again!"

Shaking hands, Daniel sat down next to the man at the counter.

"Still haven't made up your mind, huh? Death or everlasting enlightenment? I don't really see the choice, myself."

"Of course I don't wanna be dead – it's just that, uh..." Daniel said before loosing the thread of conversation. "Listen, the reason I came over here was to ask you – why are you talkin' to me?"

"Oh," Jim said in realisation, "you mean because these other snobs won't even look at you? Well, I'm different, like Oma."

"Really?" Daniel managed, trying not to sound too intrigued and nosy. "Cos I kinda had the impression that you two don't quite see eye to eye."

"What, that little...?" began Jim in reference to his spat with Oma, before breaking into laughter. "Oh, that was nothing. We both operate somewhat outside the normal rules and regulations. Sometimes we disagree on how far outside we should go, that's all."

"Really?"

"Yeah. As long as these other guys don't strike me down, I figure I'm okay," Jim explained.

"See, I guess that's what I'm tryin' to figure out. I mean, I feel like if I agree to ascend, I'm signing a contract that I don't even know what it says. Now, obviously I had a little trouble with the fine print the last time."

"You sure did!" the older man noted gleefully.

Daniel winced. "You know about that?"

"Well, it's all out there," said Jim as he gestured into open space.

"I just don't see how I can agree to stand by and let Anubis destroy every living thing in the entire galaxy," argued Daniel.

"I know," Jim said, seemingly agreeing. "That's a tough one."

The ascended being pushed his new newspaper in front of the younger man.

"Speaking of which, have you seen the latest?"

As Daniel opened the paper to read, Jim continued to explain, "He's a crafty one. Really knows the ins and outs of the rules. I give him three to one odds to succeed. Wanna know the irony of it all? That device was originally used by the Ancients to create life in the Milky Way... well, recreate it after the whole plague thing. No kidding. Now it all gets undone with the push of one button, leaving Anubis to recreate things all over to his own liking. There's a waste of a million-odd years of evolution, huh?"

With Daniel engrossed in the printed page, Jim turned to survey the other ascended patrons of the diner. "I say someone should really do something to stop him!"

Jim looked back to Daniel and fixed him with a dark look. "But no-one will." Jim then asked for more coffee as Daniel continued to read.

SGC

1405 hrs

Jacob watched his daughter closely as they ate a late lunch in her office. She was tucking into a caesar salad with some enthusiasm, which her father felt was probably a misdirected attempt to avoid talking about things. But, if there was one thing Jacob knew, it was tactics. All he had to do was simply wait for her to run out of things to fill her mouth with and she would be forced to talk, which was why he'd leisurely enjoyed his chicken sandwich and cup of coffee. Jacob knew there was little time left and was resolved to have whatever issues plagued his daughter sorted before Sel'mac could not longer hide their own problems from Sam.

Finally, Carter ran out of food to hide behind and made eye contact with her patiently waiting father. She winced to see him sitting quietly composed on the opposite side of her desk, half a cup of warm coffee in one hand and a sympathetic smile on his face.

"So, Dad," she eventually braved, breaking the silence, "what do you want to talk about?"

"Well, for starters, let's start with something simple. Did you find out what happened to General O'Neill?"

Sam sucked in her breath awkwardly and had a coughing fit.

"You okay, Sam?" her father asked.

"I'm okay, Dad. It's just I can't really answer that question."

"But you did find out where he is?"

Sam nodded.

"Okay. Can you at least pass on to him that I'd like to see him as soon as possible."

"Is something wrong, Dad?"

"Maybe," Jacob hedged, unwilling at this late stage to outright lie to his daughter.

"Can I help, as I don't know if the General will be able to make it for a visit."

"We'll see. Next, are you completely happy with the decision to end things with Pete?"

Sam flushed red and then white, then red again. "I am, Dad," she managed in a small voice. "I guess I was simply deluding myself that I could have a normal relationship."

"That's not true, Sam. You could have a normal relationship, although I must agree that Pete probably wasn't the best choice for that. Don't trick yourself into believing that the SGC must take everything that you have," Jacob pressed, "I'd hate for you to be in my position, having missed so much because you gave everything to your job."

"Oh, Dad," Sam sighed with tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. "I'm okay, really. Give me time and I might try again."

Jacob caught his daughter's attempt to sound playful at the end and wondered if she'd every try again after he was gone.

"Fine," Jacob eventually agreed. He sat back in his chair and took a sip of his cooling coffee. "Then, perhaps, you can tell me about this Captain O'Neill you now have on your team."

"Ah..." Sam faltered, unsure what to say.

"Well?"

"She's Captain Jacqueline O'Neill."

Jacob nodded and rolled one hand to indicate she should venture more information.

"She's fluent in several languages, as well as having a background in at least three sciences."

Jacob grinned and asked with a little glee, "So both you and Daniel have your own possible protégé that you're fighting over?"

"Dad!" groaned Sam. "We haven't been fighting over her."

Her father simply looked her in the eye.

"Okay," she conceded. "We fought over her a little at the start."

"So, who won?"

"Actually, we stopped when we found out –"

"Found out what?" probed Jacob when Carter brought herself up short.

"Ah... when we found out that she... ah, likes hockey!"

The Tok'Ra goggled at that particularly poor attempt at finding an excuse. "Really?" he drawled.

"Uh..."

"Sam, when I first found out who you were working under I read their files. I read Jack's. He doesn't have a niece, as he was a single child and an orphan. So who is this Jac O'Neill?"

"I'll need some permissions before I can tell you that, Dad," Sam explained.

Elsewhere

1437 hrs

Daniel was still pouring over the newspaper as if it would lead him to the holy grail, a rather more relaxed and laid back Jim sat next to him eating a piece of pie.

"This is bad," Daniel said, summing up the content of the newspaper.

"Yeah," agreed Jim distantly, "and this pie is great, but there's nothing to wash it down with."

Daniel ignored Jim's waggling of his empty coffee cup. "Is there anything you can do to stop Anubis? I mean, you did say someone should do something."

"I did, didn't I?" Jim responded with a shrug of his shoulders. "Well, as far as what can be done, it's kinda complicated."

"Yeah, so Oma tells me."

"Yeah, well I don't think she's told you everything."

"What does that mean?" asked Daniel.

"I'm sayin'..." began Jim before trailing off. "I've already said too much."

"No, you haven't," Daniel heatedly argued, "in fact, you've hardly said anything at all."

With a nervous scan of the other ascended customers in the diner, Jim fixed Daniel with a careful eye. "You gave up eternal enlightenment – all the knowledge and power of the universe. Why do you think you did that?"

"To fight for humanity any way I could."

"Yes, very big of you," Jim said rather flatly, as if dismissing Daniel's reasoning as invalid. "You rejected everything Oma offered you, and now she just gives you another chance, based on the goodness of her heart?"

"Well, that is the point, isn't it? I mean, she is ascended – she is good."

"Sure, best intentions," Jim grudgingly said.

"Do you know what happened between me and Oma? Why did I choose to take human form again?"

"You should ask Oma."

Jac's house, Colorado Springs

1456 hrs

The car was stopped. The car was parked. The engine wasn't even running, yet Sam had yet to get out of the car. Her father, seated in the front seat beside his daughter was watching her unusual behaviour.

"This is Jack's house," he finally observed. "So why are we sitting here in the driveway?"

"Ah," said Sam eloquently.

Relaxing her death grip on the steering wheel, Sam climbed out of her car, copied by her father on the other side. Together they walked up the drive to the house.

The smell of something burning led the pair, not to the front door, but around the side of the house to the back yard where meat could be smell burning on a barbecue.

Jac wandered out the open back door, a bottle of Guinness in one hand and a spatula in the other. She didn't notice them at first, consumed with more important task of dispelling the smoke coming from the charred meat by pouring some of the beer over the steaks. She enjoyed the sizzle of the hotplate and took a swig of the remaining beer in the bottle.

"Hi, Jac," Carter finally managed, catching the attention of the younger woman.

"Colonel!" exclaimed Jac as she looked up in surprise at her two visitors.

"Look, I-I'm sorry to bother you at home like this, but, uh..."

Jacob meanwhile had moved to commandeer a chair by the barbecue, a distinctly ashen look on his face, which made Jac scowl in thought.

"How'd you know I was here?" Jac asked of her superior officer, having thought to avoid the older woman for at least one more day before Teal'c and L'masee resorted to locking her in a room with Carter.

"I saw the smoke," Sam tried lamely.

"Oh, yeah," Jac agreed as she brushed some ash off her jumper.

"Look, is this, is this okay? I mean I could have called first, but..."

"No. Yeah... I mean, it's fine," began a flustered Jac. "So, um, what brings you to this neck of the woods on such a fine day in my backyard?"

"I've been wanting to have a talk with you, plus my father has been telling me he needs to speak urgently with General O'Neill. I thought you might be able to accommodate him." Sam smiled nervously at the end of her little speech.

"Oh?"

"You know, tell Dad the truth."

"Oh!"

Jac threw another concerned look at the elder man breathing slightly unevenly in the chair. "You know, you don't look so hot, Jacob," Jac observed rather bluntly.

"I'm fine," the man in question protested.

"Dad?" Sam asked, finally noticing her father's less than stellar complexion now that it had been brought to her attention. She cursed her narrow focus of summoning the courage to confront Jac.

"I'm fine," the Tok'Ra protested once more. "Now, can I talk to General O'Neill."

"You're talking to him," bit out Jac. "Answer your daughter's question, Jacob."

"What the hell do you mean, I'm talking to him?" growled Jacob as he stiffly levered himself out of the chair and took a step towards Jac.

"I am General Jack O'Neill. Look at me!"

"What sort of stupid joke is this, Sam?" thundered Jacob as he rounded on his daughter.

"It's no joke, Dad," she said softly as she approached him and put a hand on his shaking shoulder. "Jac here had a little accident on P5X-878."

"Little accident?" Jacob parroted in disbelief.

"I got upgraded to a newer, sportier model," joked Jac as she finished the bottle of beer.

"You're not helping, Jac," warned Carter.

"Really?" Jac asked, demonstrating that a sex change didn't bring extra wisdom with it. Baiting her superior officer after having drunk a couple of beers on an empty stomach was not the smartest of moves.

"You know, I've had it up to here with this cat and mouse game you've been playing with me! What the hell are you so scared of that you can't even stay in the same room with me ling enough to talk about something other than work?"

"Scared of? Me? Jac O'Neill is scared of nuthin'!"

Jacob steadied himself and watched the growing argument, it finally dawning on him that he was witnessing his daughter facing off against her gender-changed former superior officer. He clutched at the railing as a pain swelled in his chest and the two women continued to trade barbs.

"Then tell me, Jac, why won't you talk to me?" Sam half-pleaded, half-demanded.

"I can't–"

"You can't what?" thundered Sam, cutting the younger woman off. "You can't tell me what you feel because I was engaged to Pete? You can't tell me what you feel because you're now my subordinate, not my superior officer? You can tell me what you feel because you're now a member of the same sex as myself?"

Jac simply stood in the face of such a barrage.

"What, Jac? What? What on Earth is keeping you from opening your stupid, fat mouth and telling me how you feel?"

Jacob wanted to say something at this point, but the pain in his chest was blooming to epic proportions.

"Because I love you," Jac finally confessed quietly, only to have the moment swallowed up by Jacob giving out a small croak and pitching forward, face first onto the ground.

For a moment Sam was frozen by both the confession, one that she'd at various stages in the last eight years had both wanted and not wanted to hear, and her father's sudden collapse. Then she and Jac both exploded into action. Carter dropped down beside her father to assess his condition while Jac raced inside to snatch up the phone and dial the SGC for emergency support.

Elsewhere

1514 hrs

"Well, you can't stay here forever, you know," observed Oma to Daniel as the latter sat at the counter and continued to read the newspaper. The periodical seemed almost limitless in content. "Actually, I suppose you could, I just don't know why you'd really want to – except for the great service!"

With a rather obviously fake smile the ascended being poured Daniel another cup of coffee.

"Look," said Daniel, setting aside the newspaper for the moment, "obviously I don't wanna just die. I don't suppose there's any other options?"

"I can't get into it. What's stopping you from ascending?"

"I don't know."

"Must be something holding you back," mused Oma, "making you doubt yourself."

"Maybe it's not me I'm doubting," Daniel bluntly stated.

"Look, whether you choose to accept living on a higher plane of existence has nothing to do with me or anything that I can or can't tell you. It's all up to you."

"But there is something you're not telling me."

"Is that what Jim said? You shouldn't be listening to him."

"Why not?" pressed the archaeologist with some heat in his voice.

"Because," was all he got by way of an answer.

"Good answer!" he complained, drawing a sarcastic 'Yes' from Oma.

The young man huffed at this.

"Just think, Daniel," Oma tried, "while any major interference from yourself would not be tolerated, if you ascend you may be able to do something small to help a friend of yours."

"Who?"

"O'Neill, of course."

"Jac?"

Oma nodded.

"Just what kind of help do you think Jac needs?" Daniel asked cautiously.

"Not necessarily 'needs'," explained Oma, "but it would be within your sphere of influence as an ascended being to perhaps offer Jac her original gender back."

Daniel gave Oma a slightly shocked look.

"Think about it," Oma said as she walked away.

SGC

1523 hrs

Sam sat hunched in the seat beside the bed of her father, the host of the parasite being placed in an isolation chamber of the infirmary as a precaution against whatever it was that might have caused Jacob's collapse. She was holding his hand and waiting for him to regain consciousness when she finally felt him stir.

"Dad?"

Jacob focused on the concerned voice of his daughter and angled his head so that he could see her from where he lay on the bed.

"I'm sorry, kiddo," he apologised for the scare he must have given her. "We both are."

"What's going on?"

"It's Sel'mak," Jacob explained with some hesitation, "he's dying."

"Oh my God," Sam managed, her heart in her mouth. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay. He's okay. He led a pretty full life."

Carter tried desperately to wrap her head around what her father was telling her. "I didn't live with Jolinar that long, but I think I have some idea what it's like."

"Well, this is a little different, Sam. As you know, when a Tok'Ra symbiote dies, they can prevent their host from dying as Jolinar did with you. The problem is, that last selfless act requires a certain amount of energy and a conscious effort."

"What are you saying?" Sam pressed.

"By all rights, Sel'mak should have been dead weeks ago. I wouldn't let him go. I thought we needed him – that I needed him to help you stop the Replicators."

"Dad?" Sam mumbled through tears and confusion.

"He hung on as long as he could," he father explained, "then he slipped into a coma just after we activated the weapon on Dakara."

"You've known all this time since then?" Sam accused.

"I didn't wanna spoil your wedding. When it was still on I thought we could make it."

"'We'?"

"He's barely alive," Jacob croaked. "I'm gonna die with him, Sam."

Carter clutched at her father's hand and began to openly weep.

Elsewhere

1607 hrs

"Where is she?" asked Jim as he took a seat beside Daniel.

"I dunno. Off doing whatever it is she does when she's not here."

"You ask her?" the ascended begin queried.

"Yep," replied Daniel rather shortly.

"Wouldn't tell you?"

"Nope," Daniel said again in the same tone.

"Had to find out for yourself last time, too. Man, were you pissed!" Jim had an amused grin on his face.

"About what? Tell me."

Leaning closer to the younger man, Jim asked, "What do you know about Anubis?"

"I know he's half-ascended, whatever that means."

"There are many planes of existence between human existence and ascension. Basically, the others use their collective powers to keep him from affecting anything on a grand, cosmic level."

Daniel nodded in comprehension of this piece of knowledge, "But it's okay for him to destroy an entire galaxy?"

"It's okay for him to do anything he could have done back when he was a regular old Goa'uld," clarified Jim.

Understanding dawned. "Okay, I see. What does this have to do with Oma?"

"Goa'ulds are bad. Anubis is as bad as they come," explained Jim.

"And?"

"And?" repeated the ascended being back to Daniel, gesturing for the archaeologist to come to the correct conclusion himself.

"And ascension requires that somebody be pure of spirit," continued Daniel. "One must be good to the very core to achieve enlightenment, so how did someone like Anubis ascend?"

Jim clapped his hands in excitement. "Now he's getting it!"

"Oma helps people ascend, but she'd never help somebody like Anubis!" protested Daniel as his thoughts followed the logic of the conversation to the end.

"Maybe not on purpose," hedged Jim.

"What, you're saying he tricked her somehow?" Daniel was agog at the idea of someone pulling the wool over the eyes of an ascended being.

Jim drew himself up a little and briskly said, "Rule Number One! No lone ascended being shall help a lower ascend." He stopped and dropped and the preaching act. "'Lowers' are what we call humans and such. If you deserve to be here, you should be able to get here on your own. If there's an exception – for whatever reason – a majority vote by the collective can get you in, but Oma thinks she knows better – and she's taken her licks for it. Now I admit, for the most part, she's brought good people on board but, as the old saying goes, nobody's perfect – not even us higher beings."

"Oma helped Anubis ascend," Daniel eventually said after a moment of silence, finally voicing the idea that had been tickling at the back of his head since Jim had begun prompting him to question his current situation.

Jim's face broke into a huge grin, albeit a slightly nasty looking one, and he clicked his fingers to show that Daniel had nailed the idea he had been trying to present the younger man with. At this point however, Oma strode angrily over and told the ascended being to leave. Jim looked to his watch and said, rather exaggeratedly, "Well, look at the time. Gotta go, kid – uh, business to attend to."

With a pat on the shoulder for Daniel, Jim left the diner, whistling as he did so.

SGC

1643 hrs

With Teal'c now offworld with Bra'tac, and L'masee filling in a legion of paperwork in order to convince the IOA he should be allowed to use the stargate once more as an official member of the SGC, Jac knew she was alone and vulnerable. This was easily proven when her superior officer, Colonel Samantha Carter, tracked her down and cornered the junior officer in her office. Jac had been of the opinion that her office would have been the last place Carter would have thought to look for her, only to remember, as the older woman came barrelling in, that she had different habits in her female persona. One of those was actually making use of her office space on a regular basis.

"Captain."

"Colonel," Jac grunted in reply, not giving an inch.

"I think it is time we had a _little _chat." Sam fixed the Captain with a gimlet eye.

"How about them Yankees?" offered Jac.

"Would you please take this seriously?" argued Carter as she took a step closer to O'Neill.

Jac moved so that there was a table between them, saying as she did so, "Well, this conversation is gonna get really awkward really quickly, so I'd rather _not_ take it too seriously for my own peace of mind."

"Jac."

"Why now, Sam, huh? Is it because of Jacob?"

"Don't use my father as an excuse. You've been avoiding this conversation ever since SG-1 learnt about your real background. Stop running away from this!"

"I'm not running—"

"Yes, you are," argued Sam, cutting across the younger woman's denials. She took a step back, ran a hand through her hair and then let her hands rest on her hips as she looked away. "Tela'c said this was going to be difficult," she muttered.

"You've been talking to Teal'c about this, colour me unsurprised. That man is becoming an inveterate meddler," complained Jac.

Sam giggled slightly and cocked her head as she watched the Captain flex her hands nervously and shuffle on the spot where she stood.

"Look, I'm not good with words. I never have been, which is why I'm surprised I've not managed to start any major wars." Jac stopped, sighed and then huffed in annoyance with herself. "Why do we have to talk about this?"

"Because I need resolution. _We_ need resolution," growled Sam, fighting the urge to bang her head against the concrete wall. Jac was acting not unlike a small child being dragged off to the dentist.

"Fine," scowled Jac and she took a seat on a stool next to the table, folding her arms as she did so. She glanced up at Sam with a suddenly wicked smile on her face, "So, you want to work out if we might be still able to get the ol' nasty on?"

Carter was that close to striking the younger woman upside her head in order to beat some sensibility into her. "I swear Jac, sometimes you _still_ act like a ignorant, knuckle-dragging man!"

"You say the sweetest things, honey," Jac fired back, batting her eyelids.

A strangled growl escaped Sam's throat. "We are _not_ going to be exploring that and get your mind out of the gutter!"

"Then what sort of resolution are you looking for?"

"What did you say at your place?"

"Sam," cautioned Jac.

"_Please_."

Jac gave Carter a hard look, dropped her gaze to the tabletop and eventually looked away as she finally spat out, "I love you."

"Was that so hard to say?"

The Captain levelled an incredulous stare at the other woman. "Yes, yes it was! And has anything been solved by me saying it?"

"What do you mean?"

"Other than finally saying those words and getting them out of my system, what good comes from admitting this. Nothing has changed. We certainly weren't going to be together before my little gender _mishap_ and it doesn't appear likely to happen now, so why bother with it?" There was some considerable heat in Jac's response.

"It was nice to know—," began Sam.

"Nice to know!" blasted Jac. "Nice to know? Why now? Why not four years ago when we might have had the time and the guts to do something about it?"

Sam opened her mouth, to try and salvage the conversation that was so far off from where she'd planned it to go, only to have Jac carry on with her tirade. "It's because I'm a woman now, isn't it? Before that a confession could have stuffed up your little plans for your life and career. Now that I'm a woman you feel you can get such a confession off your chest and simply carry on as if nothing has changed!"

The Captain tried once more, "Jac, no, that's not true…"

"Really?" If looks could kill Sam was sure she'd be dead and buried already. "You said this was all about coming to some sort of resolution. We came to a _resolution_ four years ago when you said things had to 'stay in the room'. I accepted that then, but obviously you didn't. Why throw this in my face now?"

"Because I want us to be able to part as friends."

"So you can swan off to Area 51 with everything in your life at the SGC tied off in a neat bow," countered Jac.

"You know about that?"

"That you plan on leaving the SGC soon, yes," answered Jac stiffly. "Not much gets past Teal'c these days."

"Dammit, Jac, stop making a scene out of this. Yes, we 'left it in the room' and I'm sorry you're still angry about that, but this is about restoring a working relationship!"

"Then why the need for me to confess what you wouldn't let me say four years ago?"

Carter tried to say something against this, but while her mouth flapped open no words emerged. She couldn't think of what to say.

"I hate to say this," Jac finally said when it was apparent Sam wasn't going to say anything, "but asking for such a confession from me smacks more of you needing an emotional pick-me-up after Pete and your father's revelation, than about coming to some resolution in our friendship and working relationship."

Angry with Carter, and with herself for the heated words exchanged, Jac stalked out of her office in order to see if L'masee had finished with the paperwork. Sam meanwhile simply wandered over to the vacated stool and plonked herself down heavily as she tried to come to grips with the conversation she'd instigated.

Elsewhere

1652 hrs

Daniel stared flatly at Oma who sat opposite him in the booth. "So it's true."

"He tricked me," the ascended being offered by way of explanation.

"How?" asked an extremely baffled archaeologist. You couldn't tell?"

"No. He must have found some old Ancient research on ascension. When he came to Kheb, he knew what he was doing. When I realised the horrible mistake that I had made, I tried to undo it, but I couldn't. That's when the Others stepped in."

Daniel sat back and pondered that for a moment. "I don't understand – they only sent him halfway back. Why not all the way?"

"It's complicated," tried Oma.

"Yeah," muttered Daniel grimly, "what isn't around here?"

Oma sighed. "They warned him," she attempted to explain, "he wasn't allowed to use any knowledge or power unless he otherwise would have gained it as a Goa'uld."

That wasn't enough for the younger man. "I don't understand. They let him wreak havoc. They don't care if he destroys all life in the galaxy – life they themselves created?"

"They haven't stopped me from continuing my work. I've tried to make up for it – help when I can."

With that statement from Oma the situation was suddenly clarified for Daniel, the SG-1 team member piecing it together in his head. "It's your punishment," he began, slowly at first as the line of though crystallised. "You're forced to watch, powerless to interfere, and let Anubis do whatever he wants just to punish you?"

"I told you before," Oma tried, "the galaxy you're from, the plane of existence, is so small and insignificant compared to the rest of the universe."

"I don't care. It's wrong," stated Daniel firmly.

Oma almost rolled her eyes at what she perceived as behaviour equivalent to a five-year-old temper tantrum. "That's what you said last time."

Daniel clambered out of the booth and surveyed the other customers. "Excuse me?" he asked, calling out to the assembled ascended beings. "Isn't it enough already? I mean, a whole galaxy of innocent people enslaved and tortured for generations, now on the verge of being destroyed for nothing? For what? For one mistake a good person made trying to do a good thing."

No one made any indication that they were hearing a word he was saying.

"C'mon, the least you could do is listen to me," shouted Daniel, a little frantic panic in his voice as he moved about the diner. "That can't be against the grand high-falutin' cosmic rules!"

Turning to an occupied booth, Daniel accosted one of the customers. "Hey! I'm talkin' to you!"

This was followed by an attempt to physically shake one of the ascended out of their apparent apathy, the man in the booth simply becoming white light that Daniel was unable to grasp. As the angered human stood back from the booth in surprise, the customer quietly returned to their previous form and carried on eating and talking as if nothing had just happened.

"Okay, okay," admitted Daniel, desperate to try another tack. "Well, I know you can hear me. Hasn't she suffered enough already? And certainly enough other people have suffered to punish her. Don't you think you've made your point?"

Oma looked at Daniel with some sadness. "That's the thing, Daniel. They don't. I keep breaking the same rule – helping people ascend. That's why you're here."

"What if you stopped?" asked Daniel as he approached her.

"Wouldn't undo the problem. That's why I keep doing what I do," she explained with some tiredness and defeat in her voice. "Anubis can't be killed – not by you, not by me."

SGC

1757 hrs

In the isolation room beyond the glass Sam could see her father talking with two visiting Tok'Ra. She had retreated to the observation room to watch her sleeping father as she mulled over her rather heated _discussion_ with Jac. She had started off by berating herself over the messes she kept on making, wasting time over things better left forgotten instead of looking ahead to a future her father could be happy leaving her to. After all, that was what he'd stressed every time he'd seen her since their reunion some six years ago, that he simply wanted to see her with a happy future in front of her. Then she had raged quietly at the pigheaded attitude Jac had displayed, almost tempted to leave her seat, find the younger woman, and beat some sense into her. By the time the two Tok'Ra had arrived she was sitting with quiet resignation, crying silently at the current situation she found herself in.

The door to the observation room opened and Sam found a rather sheepish looking Jac taking the seat beside her. "You okay," Jac asked when she spotted the falling tears.

Sam tried to wipe her eyes. "Actually, I'm fine. Good, even, strange as that sounds. I thought I lost him four years ago. Since then, we've been closer than we ever were in my whole life. In a way, Sel'mak gave me the father I never thought I'd know."

Jac studied Sam for a moment, aware that her commanding officer had offered some sort of truce by not immediately dredging up their most recent _conversation_.

"C'me here," Jac finally said as she put her arm around Sam's shoulder.

Sam leant into the comforting arm and the pair just sat together in silence for some unmeasured length of time. Eventually, her tears under control, Carter sat up and looked at her father once more in the isolation room.

"Thank you, Jac," she said into the silence, unable to remove her gaze from her dying father's form.

"For what?" Jac asked in almost a whisper.

"For being here for me."

Jac looked at Sam's profile and sighed sadly, "Always." It was true, Jac knew in her heart. Despite everything that happened, Jac knew that if Sam ever needed something she would drop everything to be there to help.

That sad whisper from Jac was enough for Carter to turn her head and look at the younger woman. From O'Neill's point of view it looked like Sam was about to say something when movement in the isolation room distracted her. One of the Tok'Ra was looking directly at Sam.

Abandoning Jac's arm she hurried from the observation room and into the isolation room, taking her place by her father's bed. Jac watched on with a horrible twisting feeling in her gut as Sam took her father's hand and kissed him on the head. Jacob opened his eyes with was obviously quite some effort and said something to his daughter. Then Jacob closed his eyes once more and Jac knew it was over. In the isolation room Sam copied her father and closed her eyes, lost in the grief of loosing a parent. Feeling very uncomfortable, Jac quietly got up and left the observation room for some kind of distraction.

Elsewhere

1801 hrs

Daniel and Oma had sat in uncomfortable silence for sometime, the solemn mood finally broken only when Jim waltzed back into the diner, newspaper in hand. He sauntered happily over to the booth the two were sat in, broad beaming smile on his face.

"Can I get a coffee?" he cheekily asked.

"Get it yourself," spat Oma, in no mood to tolerate the ascended being's behaviour.

"Don't mind if I do!" crowed Jim as he wandered behind the counter and threw down his newspaper upon it. "Ooh! Hey, Danny boy, you see the paper?"

"No, what's it say?"

"The trick worked!" Jim grabbed a coffee mug and a pot of the hot brown liquid. "Those stupid Jaf'fa took half their ships to hunt down Anubis. Meanwhile, his army was poised to attack Dakara. The remaining rebel Jaf'fa guarding Dakara are being slaughtered. It's only a matter of time before old Anubis gets his hands on the weapon."

"I'm sorry," responded Daniel in disbelief, "you sound almost happy about that." Sure the ascended had been apathetic about what was going on in the milky way galaxy, but they had never shown any sign that they approved of what Anubis was up to.

"Who, me?"

"Yeah. What do you have against Oma?"

"Daniel," Oma warned.

"No – I wanna know," Daniel frowned as he turned to wards Jim to watch this odd ascended being more closely. "I mean, you're not just watching – you're coming in here to rub it in. Why are you taking such pleasure in her punishment?"

"Me? I don't have anything against Oma. I think she's great, don't I? Hell, she's the one that helped me ascend." Jim gave Daniel a particularly malevolent smile. "You got it, huh?"

"You are Anubis," Daniel managed with dawning horror.

The half-ascended being toasted the archaeologist who was finally getting a glimpse of the greater scheme of things.

SGC

2317 hrs

The window looked out onto the stargate, sitting quietly in its metal clamps. Teal'c and Jac stood at the window and stared out into the darkened silo. In a seat at the briefing room table L'masee sat in silence as the two talked.

"The rebel fleet guarding Dakara has fallen to the forces of Anubis," Teal'c uttered with solemnity. "Bra'tac and the remaining rebel ships will not arrive in time."

Landry entered the room.

"Anubis now controls the weapon," Teal'c added as Landry sat down at the head of the table.

"Well then, we find the biggest damned nuke we can and we shove it right through the Gate now," Jac said, trying to find some way of cheering the Jaf'fa up.

"Anubis will certainly have the Gate shielded," argued Teal'c. "The nuke will not arrive in one piece."

Sam nodded in agreement with Teal'c's assessment of Jac's off-the-cuff plan, but then realised that it might be something Anubis might try himself. "If we can dial the Alpha site, Sir, we may be able to prevent the weapon from connecting the wormhole to either planet. It may only buy us the thirty-eight minutes that the Gate can..."

"Do it now, Colonel," growled Landry, "Before we talk ourselves to death."

Getting out of her chair Sam sprinted back down the stairs to give Harriman his instructions. Teal'c and Jac shared a glance and turned back to watch the silo when alarms began sounding and the gate began to spin.

"It appears we are too late," observed Teal'c as Harriman's voice could be heard over the tannoy.

Landry was already moving for the stairs and L'masee had moved to the window in time to see the iris slid into place.

"Do you really have to be so down, T?" asked Jac as the silo was flooded with light, the wormhole forming behind the iris.

"What happens now, O'Neill?" asked L'masee.

"I imagine General Landry is trying to find a way to solve this that _doesn't _involve using the self destruct."

Elsewhere

2319 hrs

"Oh, you make a great cup of coffee," Jim said with some mirth as he put the drink and coffee pot down. "Well, gotta go."

Daniel observed Oma as Jim waved at her and realised that she wasn't about to do anything to stop the half-ascended mad Goa'uld. He rushed towards the rotund avatar of the being he'd fought against these last three years, only to run right through him as if he were a ghost.

With a chuckle, Jim noted, "There's nothing you can do. You don't have the power."

From the booth they booth heard Oma mutter with some energy, "But I do."

Forgetting the silly little mortal he'd been playing with, Jim turned and focussed on Oma. She had removed herself from the booth, her waitress outfit melting into a more conservative white ensemble.

"You can't kill me either," Jim said, a sliver of uncertainty in his voice for the first time since he'd introduced himself to Daniel.

"I can fight you," Oma said as if that was enough.

"Well, you can't win," blustered Jim like a school bully about to have his mystique stripped away from him.

"It won't matter," said Oma offhandedly, "You won't be able to do anything but fight me back."

Jim sized up his ascended opponent and decided a taunt was as good a way as any to begin. "Well, what are you gonna do?"

"Something I should have done a long time ago," Oma replied and began walking slowly towards him.

Daniel just stared in bewildered disbelief as she advanced on the avatar, who was shaking his head and holding his hands up as if to ward her away. Over his cries of "No!" they two dissolved into clusters of sparkling light that swirled together and passed upwards through the ceiling of the diner.

SGC

March 5th, 2005

0803 hrs

The briefing room was busy. General Landry once more occupied the 'big chair' at the head of the table and Carter had taken the seat to his right. Across from her sat Teal'c and beside him sat Jac, who was twiddling her thumbs. L'masee did his best to emulate Teal'c and sat stoically in his seat next to Sam. Bra'tac had taken the seat next to L'masee and had on arrival cast his eye over the younger Jaf'fa before nodding his head in bemusement.

"The Kull warriors became... disorganised, confused, as though they no longer knew what to do," explained Bra'tac, summing up the reports he had had from his contacts.

"They no longer had a master to serve," added Teal'c with some relish.

"After that, they were easily defeated." Here Bra'tac took the opportunity to look to Landry and gauge the human's reaction. Nothing.

"Many Jaffa lost their lives at Dakara. Those that survived are united as never before, and we are in agreement – the weapon must be destroyed," Teal'c noted after the short pause.

That was enough to stir Landry into action, the General sitting back a little easier in his seat. "I'm sure that is something that we too can agree on," the General finally said. 

"Well, that's good," Jac flippantly commented. Everyone at the table politely ignored her except Sam, who kicked her subordinate under the table and scowled at her whilst still trying to smile at Landry. Jac tired to hide her wince, somewhat unsuccessfully.

"A new memorial will be erected in its place so that our triumph over the Goa'uld will never be forgotten," continued Bra'tac, unaware of what Sam had just done and wondering at the look of slight pain and boredom on Captain O'Neill's face.

"I still don't quite understand what happened," said Sam, pressing on with her smile still fixed in place. "One minute Anubis is about to push the button that ends all life in the galaxy, and the next minute he's just... gone."

"Indeed. It is a great mystery."

Jac stared flatly at Teal'c's proclamation. "I don't think you'll ever get a job narrating _The Twilight Zone_, T, so knock it off with the 'Long time ago, far, far away' stuff."

Bra'tac still couldn't quite wrap his head around the young female Tau'ri warrior and instead proffered his own answer to Carter's question. "One can only assume he was vanquished by some beings. If not, why would he forfeit the weapon and his army?"

Sam's smile dropped away from her face and she fixed Jac with a searching look. "You think?"

"I do," Jac replied, mustering as much gravitas as she could for her Teal'c impersonation.

Teal'c favoured her with a blank look, only a hint of a smile teasing away at the corner of his mouth.

"It's the only thing that would explain the self destruct not going off," said Carter, as if she were about to spring into some fantastic explanation of a scientific theory.

"Of what do you speak?" Bra'tac asked. He was finding the conversation at the table ever more confusing.

"Care to let us in on the secret, you two" probed Landry.

"O'Neill believes that Daniel Jackson was somehow responsible," Teal'c stated with authority, backed up by Jac nodding her head next to him.

"No! It wasn't me," exclaimed a voice from the open door of Landry's office.

"Anybody else hear that?" Jac asked for her own peace of mind and was relieved when Sam nodded.

"I'm in here!" came the voice again and everyone turned to look at the office door.

"That's Daniel!" said Jac as she leapt from her seat and strode over to the office.

"No! Don't come in!" cried the voice.

The warning wasn't quite soon enough and Jac got an eyeful as she passed the threshold of the office. "Ho! Hey there!" she said, not moving from where she had stopped.

Daniel gave her a heated glare, or as close as he could while trying to cover his nakedness and embarrassment. "Can you get me... something?" he demanded, not amused by what appeared to be Jac's ogling of himself.

Stepping out of the office Jac sized up the blue SGC flag on the pole outside the office. With a quick "Sorry, Sir" directed to Landry she ripped the flag from the pole and stepped back into the office.

"Jac!" Daniel protested once more when she reappeared with the blue cloth in her hands. "Can't you see I'm..."

"I certainly can," she giggled as she threw the flag over Daniel's head and exited the office. She moved over to one wall of the briefing room and supported herself against the wall as she laughed heartily, tears at the corners of her eyes.

A moment later, Daniel awkwardly stumbled out of the office, flag wrapped precariously about his waist in order to preserve what remained of his dignity. Sam simply stared in amazement at the fact that Daniel had returned from the dead, _again_, while Jac was slowly sliding to the floor, still in the grip of her laughter.

Daniel took in the surprise of Sam, the bemusement of Landry and L'masee, the knowing look of Teal'c and the wide grin of Bra'tac. "It's, uh, a long story," he offered.

No one knew quite what to say, so Daniel settled for glaring at the still laughing Jac.

"Oh, I'm glad you're back, Daniel," the Captain managed between hiccupped laughter.

SGC

March 23rd, 2005

1134 hrs

Daniel sat in the canteen and played with the food on the plate in front of him. He wasn't sure if he wasn't really hungry, or he'd been spoilt by the perfect food of the diner. He was broken out of his idle musings by Sam who sat down opposite him with some pudding in a small cup and a spoon.

"Things back to normal?" she asked him.

"I suppose," Daniel replied. "Have you and Jac sorted out your differences?"

"I suppose," Sam fired back at the younger man.

"What does that mean, exactly?"

"You first," Sam said as she dug into her dessert.

"I miss ascended coffee," Daniel commented as he studied the dregs in the bottom of his coffee mug.

"Great. You're dealing with an addiction to the perfect coffee." Sam sighed, "Couldn't Oma at least put you back on this plane of existence without that in your bloodstream?"

"Your turn," muttered Daniel.

"I think we've agreed to leave it in the past. That by focussing on what might have been we're not giving each other the chance for a happy future."

"Oh." Daniel paused and his brow furrowed. "Does that mean...?" Here Daniel broke off and made some furtive gestures with his fingers as if pointing between two objects, one of which being Sam.

"Mean what? I swear Daniel, you may speak whatever number of languages it is, but English isn't one of them."

"DanielJackson is merely asking if this means that you and O'Neill will not be pursuing a relationship," said Teal'c evenly as he and L'masee joined the pair at the table.

"Speak louder, Teal'c," groaned Sam, "I don't think everybody heard you."

"They will assume I mean yourself and General O'Neill, I did not state a gender at all," the Jaf'fa countered with a lowered voice.

"Yes, well," prevaricated Daniel, "that was what I was trying to ask, if a bit more diplomatically."

Sam simply looked at Daniel. "Daniel, have I _ever_ done anything to make you think I like women that way?"

"Well, no, except for that one time I found you and Janet..."

"I explained that then and I'm not going to explain myself again, Daniel. I'm not into women _that way_. You know that."

"I do. It's just, it's Jack. Jac. _O'Neill_. You know. And I thought, maybe, perhaps... love might carry the day regardless of circumstances. For richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health..."

"For whichever gender you may end up bent into by an abandoned Ancient device?" Sam gave Daniel a long look before sighing. "The fact is Daniel, I don't think it would of worked when Jac was still Jack. Perhaps if we'd taken the chance early on, but by the time you ascended the first time we were in a rut and going nowhere. As much as we both might have liked it to be different, it wasn't going to happen."

Silence reigned at the table. At least until Jac bounded up to them, slapping Teal'c and L'masee both on their backs. "Guess what?"

"What, O'Neill?" replied the older Jaf'fa for the group.

"We're on a special home movie that they dug up in Egypt a week ago!"

"Pardon?" Sam tried.

"Some of Daniel's fellow rock collectors were digging in Egypt near where they found the stargate and found a perfectly preserved digital video camcorder. Apparently they played back the start of the video file and saw Daniel on it."

"And where is this recording now?" asked Daniel as he stood up, meal and Sam's love life forgotten.

"Landry has it all set up to play in the briefing room. Wanna take a look?"

"Er, sure."

Before he could do anything else, Jac had taken Daniel by the arm and marched him from the canteen, the rest of the group following behind with amused smiles on their faces.

1207 hrs

"Well, that was truly weird," remarked Jac from where she sat in her chair, the other four at seats of their own in the briefing room.

The playback of the digital video recording was over and the lighting in the briefing room faded back up to its normal intensity.

"That was Jack," Daniel managed eventually, the first of the rest to speak after the revelations of the video. "I mean Jack, Jack."

"That's about as clear as ever, Daniel," observed Jac.

"Linguistically differentiating between either gender of O'Neill is indeed a frustrating endeavour vocally," intoned Tealc'.

Jac gave Teal'c a penetrating look. "You've been trying to puzzle out a solution to that very problem ever since you twigged that I was me, haven't you?"

Teal'c merely raised an eyebrow to this accusation as Sam spluttered, "But that was you, you."

Jac couldn't help but give the other woman a blank stare for fear of laughing.

"You know what I mean," complained Carter. "That was the male you on that recording."

"Clearly SG-1 at some point made use of that Ancient device that we brought back some time ago," stated Daniel.

"And had some effect on the timeline," grimly added Teal'c.

"Obviously," responded Daniel, "since we have a very female Jac sitting at this table as opposed to the male one on the video tape."

"Glad you noticed," teased Jac as she batted her eyelids.

"Arrgh! Don't do that," protested Daniel.

"All joking aside," began Carter, "somehow this other 'us' made some small change in the past that upset the workings of the Ancient prison complex on P5X-878. At a guess I'd say that in the original timeline we saw on the video, General O'Neill's visit to P5X-878 went uninterrupted by a gender change."

"Just dandy," drawled Jac, slightly unsettled by the idea that she herself, or at least an alternate male version of herself, had been responsible for her gender change in the first place, "but where does that leave us?"

"That, Captain," stated Landry as he swept into the room, "leaves us with a fully charged ZPM."

"Without having to lift a finger?" asked Jac.

"Essentially, yes," answered Daniel.

Before Daniel could proffer further explanations General Landry asked for silence. "Since we now possess a ZPM we are in a position to potentially aid the Atlantis expedition which sent us a message a few days ago while we were embroiled with Anubis' plans of conquest.

"Plans have been made, Sir?" queried Carter.

"They have indeed, Colonel. The ZPM will be used initially to send forces through the gate to the expedition base immediately. It will then be used to accelerate the _Daedalus_, cutting the journey time between here and the Pegasus Galaxy by some considerable margin. If we're lucky it will arrive in time to do some good, not to find nothing left."

With that Landry dismissed the meeting, Jac hanging back claiming she wanted a word with the General. Landry himself wanted a word about the conversation he'd overheard as he had come into the briefing room.

SGC

March 25th, 2005

0734 hrs

Colonel Dillion Everett had already stepped through the gate, along with the rest of the assigned forces. Only three remained on the ramp. With a last look behind her, Captain Jacqueline O'Neill caught the watching eyes of SG-1, three very important people whom she was leaving behind. She tossed them a smile, looked down to Sanderson and L'masee who stood next to her and turned back to the gate. She and the two others stepped through the event horizon of the stargate wormhole and Jac embraced her new future.

"How do you think she'll do?" asked Daniel as the three of then looked down on the silo filled with silvery light.

"She's an O'Neill. I think she'll do just fine," replied Sam with tears in the corner of her eyes.

"Indeed," agreed Teal'c.

And the wormhole disengaged with a snap.

END


	19. AUTHOR'S NOTES

**NINETEEN: Author's Notes**

_Contents_

*Beginnings

*Influences/Reasons Why

*Writing

*The Notes

*Sequel?

Welcome to the _Author's Notes_ for _Lady of the Gate_! It should be pointed out at the outset that the story was envisaged as a 90 000 word tale that would breeze along quickly. Instead, the word count blowing out to almost 200 000 was something of a bit of a shocker and accounts for the lengthy writing time.

*Three and a bit years of writing (began 19-March-2006; finished 17-04-2010)

*Three years of posting (began on 24-December-2006; finished 24-12-2010)

==BEGINNINGS==

I've been a long time reader of fan fiction and in 2006 decided I wanted to have a go at putting something of my own on the web to repay all those happy hours spent reading other peoples' efforts. I picked **Stargate: SG-1** as it was a series I was beginning to work my way through on DVD and had just started reading some of the fan fiction associated with the show.

I came up with five story ideas in the early part of 2006. These were:

1) A story where one or more of SG-1 were possessed by Goa'uld parasites (this became "Behind Enemy Lines")

2) A story where one or more of SG-1 were possessed by Tok'ra symbiotes (this became "Two" - possibly won't ever be posted at . What was written is available to read on my blog - see my profile for link)

3) A crossover with **MacGyver** (this became "The Hunting of the Jack")

- 4) A genderbender story

5) A story heavily influenced by Livi2Jack's _Stargate Revealed_ stories (this became "The Celestial Temple" - possibly won't ever be posted. Again see blog for posts of written material.)

==INFLUENCES/REASONS WHY==

The idea of a genderbender story came about because of two influences. One was that I had been reading the manga **Ranma 1/2** since 1996, which features a sixteen-year-old boy who changes gender with the application of cold or hot water, and the associated fan fiction, many of which chose to examine in depth the emotional havoc such a problem could cause (the manga itself was mainly concerned with slapstick humour based around strange situations or very odd kung fu styles).

The second was the small number of **Stargate: SG-1** genderbender fics that I had come across on that on the whole seemed merely an excuse to write slash fiction between Daniel and Jack without it 'appearing' to be slash fiction. They were on the whole uniformly poorly written (no offense intended to any of those writers who may be reading this!), usually rushing the gender change in order to get to the sex (most seemed to have thankfully vanished in the NC-17 purge). That I had no interest in reading slash fiction was simply the icing on the cake as far as terminating my interest in said fics.

So _Lady of the Gate_ (known originally simply as _Jac_ for want of a better title) was an attempt to tell a well told genderbender story in the vein of some of the **Ranma 1/2** ones I'd read and at the same time mark my first attempt to play in the **Stargate: SG-1** sandbox.

==WRITING==

Initially with _Lady of the Gate_ I just sat down and started writing the story from the beginning (working in a combination of typing directly onto the computer and writing out in long hand on pad paper), composing the story in bites of 2 500 words with the intention that each 'bite' would focus on one event/person only. I posted on the _samandjack_ e-mail mailing list for pre-readers and got some good responses, but by the time I'd sent out my fifth or sixth 2 500 word 'bite' I was no longer getting feedback. Undaunted I revised these 'bites' into the format of 10 000 words chapters and carried on from there.

By this point I now had a notebook in which I was writing down my ideas for the adventure (as well as ideas for my other stories). What follows is my notes with the occasional after the fact comment from me in **bold**. The 'missing' pages are ones dedicated to other stories of mine.

==THE NOTES==

Page One

* Jac is 24

* Sara - 6 wks pregnant in mid-Oct '04

- due May '05

**In the end I decided about halfway through to terminate the adventure before events reached this birth of the baby as the story was already getting quite long**

* Jon visits SGC (Nov. 26th (Fri.))

- takes a liking to a pic of Jac

(humour?)

**Eventually used with Sanderson**

* Munro pursues complaint - Jac

* P8X-345

- Ancient tech now at SGC in Carter's lab

- another prison device

* Cassandra?

**A reminder to think about whether she would appear in the story or not**

* Jac + Sara

meeting Charlie's grave - late Dec.

* Barrett - thinks Jack is off world - BLACK OPS MISSION

Page Two

* Ba'al looking for Ancients' prison (is P5X-878 where Jac's accident happened)

* Mark puts pressure on Sam to talk to Pete

- happens during the events of "Gemini" in Jan. '05

**Brought forward to Christmas '04**

* Jac ends up ascending?

NO

**One of my four potential endings to the story**

* Xmas get together Mark Carter's w Jacob + Pete

**Moved to Sam's apartment**

* broken justice machine on P5X-878 handing out random prison sentences (justice)

- SG-5: dead

- Jack: gender change

- Sam: hallucinations SGC

Page Three

* L'masee infiltrating ha'tak in order to help Jac

**Not developed as it was better to simply gloss over this and get on with the main thrust of the story, which was Jac**

* Jac becomes dependant on sarcophagus - unable to leave under her own steam?

- L'masee helps her back to SGC

V

recovery Sara's?

(Dec. '04?)

**There followed a quick calendar for the later half of Season 8 based on notes from various websites about the Stargate timeline**

Page Four

* Dec. '04 - Xmas without Jack

**Not really explored**

* Thor? - comes to check due to DNA alterations

- delayed by replicators

- turns up during "Gemini"?

**Last idea was obviously dropped**

Jac abducted by Replica-Carter

**Dropped**

* Colonel Lionel Pendergast

- commander of _Prometheus_

(s8 ~ s9)

V

Vala Mal Doran

**Basically just reminders of people in relevant episodes**

* Jack has learnt Latin

- throw pottery

**Observations from my marathon screening of the series on DVD that I thought might prove useful**

* Sanderson has a crush on Jac

* Kinsey keeps up denial about Jack / Jac till he goes missing in "Endgame"

**Obviously I meant "Full Alert" since "Endgame" took place before the start of **_**Lady of the Gate**_**!**

Page Thirteen

L'masee diff. to Teal'c in that he still believes that the Goa'uld (& Jac) are gods

**This is me struggling to make L'masee something other than a clone of Teal'c!**

**There followed a detailed calendar for December 2004 and January 2005 with these dates noted:**

** Dec 1st: Jac tortured**

** Dec 6th: Munro**

** Dec 8th: artefact from P8X-345**

** Dec 10th: Jac escapes - SG-1 go to wrong planet**

** Dec 13th: J+L'masee make it to Alpha site**

** Dec 28th: visit Charlie's grave**

** Jan 1st: Jac takes back old house**

** Jan 11th~15th: "Gemini" / "Prometheus Unbound"**

** Jan 24th: visit Charlie's grave**

Page Fourteen

- SG-1 check on wrong planet and miss Ba'al (during which time L'masee helps Jac escape) - Sanderson helps SG-1

- Jac returns at start of "Gemini" / "Prometheus Unbound" story line

- stays with Sara in Boston

- called to trial about Killian

**Changed to have Jac return afterwards so that I could skip the two episodes with minimum fuss**

Lt. Richard

Phillip

John

Charles

Maj. Joshua Killian

**Scribbled additions to list below**

Sanderson (SG-7) - 'team of scientists'

Colonel Munro (SG-15) - team injured

Cpt. Goffrey (SG-15)

Lt. Jones (SG-9)

- Daniel 'feels' there is a link between Jack and Jac - not sure what tho.

* device Ba'al used on **Jac** a 'tagging' device for new prisoners - Ba'al can now track her anywhere

Page Nineteen

* Mark + Pete get drunk one evening and Pete tells Mark exactly what it is that Sam is really up to

- Mark really believed the Deep Space Telemetry cover story

V

takes place before Xmas

V

Xmas dinner mark confronts Sam about the truth

* huge argument - Jacob sides w Sam

**Sidestepped instead for comedy**

* Mark learns of female O'Neill and assumes this is the O'Neill Pete complained about as being a rival

COMEDY OF ERRORS!

- Mark thinks perhaps Sam is 'bi'!

**Dropped as I felt more gender confusion wasn't needed!**

Cassandra coming to Colorado Springs for Xmas

Page Twenty

**There followed a detailed calendar for February 2005 through to April 2005 with these dates noted:**

** Feb 1st~5th: "It's Good to be King"**

** Feb 15th: Hearing begins**

** Feb 15th~17th: "Full Alert"**

** Feb 20th: "Citizen Joe"**

** Feb 23rd: "Citizen Joe"**

** Feb 24th: Prison planet**

** Feb 27th~Mar 4th: "Reckoning"**

** Mar 8th~9th: "Threads"**

** Mar 10th/11th: "Letters from Pegasus"**

** Mar 23rd: "Moebius"**

** Mar 24th~25th: "The Seige"**

Page Twenty-One

* SG-9

Col. Majorie Hill

Maj. Timothey Hannah - Gulf War veteran

Lt. Charles Jones - newly posted from Iraq

Dr David Webbes - he's not in rescue mission

V

linguistics expert

**Don't recall why I bothered with the detail of Webbes!**

**There followed a short timeline of events from "Moebius Part Two" through to "Avalon" (and "The Intruder" for Atlantis) nicked from a Stargate web site. I've long since forgotten which site.**

Page Twenty-Two

* Jac's connection with Joe

("Citizen Joe") - starts having flashes again

- she hasn't been near the device since she changed - not until events of "Gemini"

Joe attacks her in 'Jack's' house later when she's moved in in Feb.

**Brought forward Jac's moving house to help with plot of "Full Alert"**

Apologies to Jac from SG-1

* No contact from Thor - too busy with replicators

* No contact from Tok'Ra - too busy trying to find out what Ba'al is up to

Page Twenty-Three

- idea: Jac meeting Jon

main focus

"Gemini" - Jac kidnapped by Replica-Carter

"Prometheus" - up against Vala

**Both dropped**

"Good 2 B King" - Ancient tech / Harry

"Full Alert"• - Kinsey blocking truth

"Citizen Joe" - device + Joe

"Reckoning" - Tok'Ra / Jacob / Ba'al

"Threads" - Sam / Pete break up

• truth about Jac is revealed to SG-1

** Even by this point I hadn't decided how to end the story, hence "Moebius" isn't mentioned.**

* when above happens SG-1 finally see genetic similarity - wasn't obvious before because they didn't have any pictures of female relatives to compare Jac with - so the similarity in features to Jack went unnoticed

**Dropped**

Page Twenty-Four

Sanderson asks Teal'c why he was chosen for the rescue mission

- friendly face Jac would recognise

* Jac assigned to Prometheus mission?

**Didn't happen**

Nov. 12, 2004 - SUNDAY

* at end of "Moebius" adventure Sam speculates that the actions of the other SG-1 team (the ones who travelled back in time) made some small change that led to the events of Jack turning into Jac

* Jac made part of team that goes to Atlantis via Stargate in "The Siege Part II"

**I finally decide on an end to the story! The 4 possible endings having been: 1) Jac dies; 2) Jac ascends; 3) Jac turned back into Jack; and 4) Jac stays as she is. #1 was too depressing after everything else in the story, #2 was too twee and a cop-out, after all Jac could then 'descend' as a guy, #3 was too much like pushing a **Star Trek**-type reset button and like ascending a cop-out after all the things Jac goes through. #4 seemed the best choice and then I realised I'd used the word 'irrevocably' in the story summary. Guess my subconscious knew where I was going with the story all the time!**

Page Thirty-Nine

* "Prometheus Unbound" takes place as normal - Hammond believes he has no choice but to take Daniel with him even tho Daniel doesn't want to go

* "The Seige II" takes place in July '05?

**Various time lines argue over placement of episodes. Some follow US airdates, other internal evidence. I mixed and matched for my own use**

* "Letters from Pegasus" takes place 2 weeks before "The Seige"

**An example of internal evidence for dating episodes**

* "Gemini" set a little before "PU"

ie. teaser set before "PU" teaser; then both episodes take place at same time

- takes place as normal

Jac is not on base for these events, hears about them from rest of SG-1 during "Good 2B King"

Page Forty

**Then some notes of specific episodes for points to consider**

IG2BK

- Jac goes to meet Mayborne with rest of SG-1

- she helps Daniel with translation

| this is when Daniel tells Jac about "PU" events

- Jac able to activate the ship

- no evacuation

FA

- Kinsey reveals to Jac that he knows who she is in order to **get** Jac's attention

- Jac w Teal'c during tracking and when they move in after loss of signal

- Jac helps Sam w search program?

**Last two items were dropped in favour of pairing Jac and Daniel in Russia, which I thought would be more interesting to read**

MOEBIUS

- reaction to seeing Jack on tape

- still go fishing?

* Letters from Pegasus ARRIVES 10/11th March

Page Forty-One

* can't forget

- Lt. Sanderson

- L'masee

- what have done since rescue?

**Another reminder about characters so that they didn't just drop out of the story suddenly and never return**

**Sanderson** is promoted to Cpt. b4 events reach "Reckoning" / "Threads"

**Didn't happen as I felt he needed to remain in a rank below that of Jac**

SG-7 'team of scientists'

* Landry informs Jac of Munro's push for hearing (& date of hearing: Feb 8th) at end of G2BKing

* L'masee + Lt. Sanderson part of Jac's unit when she goes to Atlantis (Seige II)

**More material for end of story**

* Jac can speak Russian? (FA)

* revelation that Jac is Jack has Sam cling to engagement with Pete till events of "Threads"

Lieutenant Samuel Forrester, JAG

**I sent a lot of time on Wikipedia looking at what a JAG was and the mandate/role**

Page Forty-Two

* Feb. 24th - Daniel had, in downtime after PU, established the likely planet that Ba'al was hunting for: P5X-878

• SG-1 head there and Jac is forced to destroy the place to stop Ba'al (who has turned up) from getting it

- hints that Ba'al is in league with Anubis

V

Jac is already reconciled to being female 4 rest of life

- Sam has trouble with understanding that

V

events of "Reckoning" begin STRAIGHT on the heels of these events

what has Barrett been up to?

Shanahan Hansen

==SEQUEL?==

So, Jac has stepped through the gate and into the events of the Season One finale of **Stargate: Atlantis**. What will become of her?

Once I'd settled on an ending for _Lady of the Gate_ I began having ideas about what could happen to Jac on the other side of the gate (a decision that happily coincided with the watching of Seasons One and Two of **Atlantis** on DVD). Thus during the writing of _Lady_ I began making notes for a potential sequel.

At the time of writing this I am hesitant to write a sequel for the following reasons:

1) I want to concentrate on completing _Behind Enemy Lines_ and _The Hunting of the Jack_. They have to be first priority.

2) Jac would be very much in the background for the major storyline events of **Atlantis** — after all she is simply a Captain and no one there knows her past. So the story would revolve more around her team's off-world adventures than the ongoing storyline of **Atlantis**. Which wouldn't be the same as being at the forefront of events as in _Lady_.

3) By this stage Jac has (hopefully) moved far enough away from Jack to be her own self (whilst still echoing Jac's main personality characteristics) and thus that makes her something akin to an OC. I personally read fanfiction because I want to explore new adventures with _familiar_ characters I like, which is why I've never bothered to read the exciting adventures of SG-16 (no matter how well written) as I don't know them at all. I currently feel that a sequel, despite supporting appearances from the **Atlantis** cast which would grow in importance as the story progressed (and one character in a major role), would stray too far into OC territory and thus be potentially less interesting to read for fans of **SG-1** or **Atlantis**. Especially since Jac would be surrounded by my OCs of Lt. Sanderson and L'masee.

But, as the saying goes 'never say never'. We'll just have to wait and see what the future holds.

— Gallicus (2010)


End file.
